


and they were roommates

by bipercabeth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Background Jasiper, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-10-18 16:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipercabeth/pseuds/bipercabeth
Summary: oh my god they were roommatesIt had been a throwaway comment, really, when Annabeth had suggested that she and Percy get an apartment together for college.





	1. i'm so lucky (you're my best friend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Oh there's no one, there's no one who knows me like you do.**

It had been a throwaway comment, really, when Annabeth had suggested that she and Percy get an apartment together for college. 

But here she is, moving in to an apartment with her best friend two days before classes start, struggling to move the oversized couch he insisted on getting. 

“For the last time, Percy, tilt, _then_ lift.” 

He sets his end of the couch down, making Annabeth jolt forward before dropping the sudden weight. 

“Last time we did that, this thing ended up on my foot.”

“And whose fault was that?” 

“Kids!” Sally calls from behind them. “You’re blocking the doorway.” 

Percy sighs in defeat and moves to lift his side of the couch. Annabeth is not ashamed of the way she sticks her tongue out at him as she mirrors his position. 

They find the angle needed to squeeze through the hallway after a lot of bickering and some encouragement from Sally. The morning mostly consists of Percy and Annabeth insisting on taking up the furniture themselves while Paul and Sally help with boxes and try to clear their path. Percy’s dismantled bed frame is the last thing to make it in before his parents have to leave to pick up Estelle from daycare. 

“Are you sure you don’t need us to stick around and help?” Sally asks them. 

“Nah, the rest of the boxes aren’t too bad. You two go get Estelle and enjoy your day, we’ll manage.” Percy says. 

Sally doesn’t protest; she just holds her arms out to the two of them. “Come here.” 

Annabeth can’t help her smile as Percy and Sally’s arms wrap around her. 

There has never been a person in Annabeth’s life as nurturing as Sally Jackson. Granted, the bar isn’t exactly high, but that doesn’t lessen the way Annabeth has always felt _safe_ in her embrace. 

“God, my babies are growing up.” Sally pulls back and kisses their cheeks individually. 

“Mom, we’re moving a few blocks down, not out of the state,” Percy protests, but Annabeth can see his eyes watering. She gives them their space while they hug.

“You too, Annabeth.” Sally walks over to her. Annabeth sighs into her and returns the hug. Then Sally steps back and looks at the two with the sternest motherly expression possible. 

“Please stay out of trouble this year.” She glances at Annabeth, who she shoots a look that reads more as _please keep Percy out of trouble this year_. 

“We’ll try, Sally.” Annabeth says. 

“Are you two sure about this? This is a big step.” 

Percy puts an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders and smiles. “Well, it’s too late for campus housing, so we’d better be.” 

“Besides, we’ve gotten this far. If I can survive emo phase Percy, I can survive anything.” Annabeth elbows his side. 

“It was not an emo phase!”

“The bangs said otherwise.”

They’re interrupted by a ding from Sally’s phone. “That’d be Paul,” she says. 

They follow Sally downstairs and to the curb where Paul is waiting by the Prius. After one last round of hugs and goodbyes, Percy’s parents get in the car and disappear into New York traffic. 

They walk upstairs for a short food break before turning their attention to the mountains of boxes in their small living room. In the midst of an impromptu jelly bean catching contest, Annabeth’s ringtone goes off. She checks her phone to see that the U-Haul her family insisted on sending from California should come any minute now. Having forgotten they were sending her stuff today, Annabeth grabs Percy and dashes downstairs. 

The elevator opens just in time for them to see a man in an orange hat walk into the lobby. Annabeth goes to greet him and he takes them out to see the truck. 

Her jaw drops at the size. She knew they were sending some of her furniture to help ease the cost of an apartment (because Annabeth refused to take money from them), but as the door of the truck slides up, she’s sure they sent _all_ of her things. 

Once they reach the apartment with the first trip of boxes, Annabeth can’t help but take one into her room to rip open. She chooses one labelled MISC. and finds every photo, poster, and other trinket she kept pinned on her walls wrapped and tucked into the box. 

Annabeth doesn’t know what to make of it. She’s pretty certain her room over there is empty though, and she wonders what they’ll turn it into in her absence. Another study? A guest bedroom? They clearly don’t expect her to visit if there’s nothing in that house to return to. 

“Annabeth?” Percy’s head pokes into the room. His eyes dart down to the open box in her lap, but he doesn’t comment on it. “We’re doing the last run now. Do we have cash to tip this guy?” 

He walks forward and holds his hand out to help her to her feet. She takes it and nods, then goes grab her wallet from the kitchen. She tucks the cash into her pocket and follows Percy downstairs. 

There are only three boxes left, so she gives the U-Haul guy his tip and grabs the two small ones as he pulls out of the lot. Percy grabs the bigger box and they head upstairs once more. 

“Oh shit.” Percy sets his box down and stares wide-eyed into their mess of a living room. 

“What?” She walks over to him and tries to follow his gaze. 

“We didn’t label a _single_ box.” 

Annabeth marches into the living room, sure that the labels are just facing away from them. “What are you talking about? Of course we—”

They didn’t. She rounds the couch to see each box unmarked. 

“This is what we get for packing ourselves. At least your boxes from California are labelled.” Percy says. 

“Yeah.” She grumbles. “At least that’s going for me.”

Before Percy can say anything, she picks up several of the labelled boxes from where they’ve been set in the kitchen and piles them in her room to sort later. Percy settles in the middle of the living room floor and begins opening boxes. 

A fair number of Annabeth’s things are mixed in with the boxes from Sally’s apartment since she spent the summer there to help Percy in the search for an apartment. Annabeth was at a boarding school in New York for high school, but by winter break of senior year the two knew they were going to college together in New York. Sally invited her to stay for the summer instead of trying to bring all her stuff across the country twice. 

Annabeth’s family had moved from New York to San Francisco during the summer before eighth grade. By then, she and Percy had been friends for two years, and she was reluctant to leave him and the city she called home. In the end Percy convinced her to give family life a try. 

Family life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Annabeth saw what family truly meant by watching the way Percy and his mother interacted. After seeing that, there was no way the family with a lifetime of neglect to make up for could compare. 

It took the entire eighth grade year, but Annabeth put up enough of a fight to convince her father to let her go to school in New York. She spent most of her weekends in the Jackson-Blofis household or running around the city with Percy and Grover, who he met at his high school. The three became a close-knit trio all the way through high school. Grover goes to college upstate at Ithaca, so they didn’t see as much of him these days. 

So, no, California isn’t home, and apparently her family knows it. She’s just surprised they’re upfront enough to send her such a clear signal not to come back. 

“Oh, so _this_ is the year you finally decide to get organized?” Percy’s sarcastic voice calls her from her thoughts and she walks out her room to see what he’s gotten into. 

He’s sitting surrounded by haphazardly opened boxes and rummaging through the one in his lap. A gray journal with her name written on the front hangs from his hand. 

“Yes.” She says defensively, setting the journal back into the box.

“Seriously though, I’m still in shock that the least organized person I know pulled a full ride.”

“At least they didn’t want me for my body!” She calls over her shoulder as she brings the box to her room. “Any more boxes for me?” 

“Nah, the rest so far are mine.” 

Ever the snoop, Annabeth peers into the boxes behind him and scoffs when she sees them full of dirty laundry. 

“Seriously Perce? That’s low, even for you.” 

He picks a pair of boxers out of the nearest box and lobs them at her face. They hit their target, and she throws them behind her, a murderous glare creeping onto her face. 

Percy notices this and backs up to the most precarious tower of boxes in the room. 

He raises his hands in front of him as she advances. “Annabeth… none of these boxes are labelled and I am willing to bet at least one of them should say _fragile_.” 

She takes a second to consider this and decides to bide her time. Without a word, she turns around and opens boxes of her own. 

Percy shoots her a wary glance and resumes his own work on the other side of the room. After a few minutes of silence, he gasps. Annabeth looks up at him to see him dangling one of her sports bras from his fingers and pointing to her own box of dirty laundry. 

“Hypocrite!” He yells and launches the bra at her. She gives chase and grabs a fistful of ammunition from his box as she passes. They’re both laughing too much for their aim to be any good, and soon the living room is a war zone with clothes hanging from various surfaces as fallout. 

Her white shorts wave around the corner of the kitchen counter. Percy pops his head around when she doesn’t fire.

“Truce?”

She throws one last pair of boxers in his face for good measure. “Truce.”

By the time they’ve collected the various articles of clothing and sorted every box into the right rooms, the sun is setting. 

They end up getting distracted and just setting up the things they need to sleep and make it through the next morning, but neither of them can be bothered to point out that this is a terrible idea. Annabeth says goodnight to Percy and collapses onto her bare mattress with nothing but a pillow and a throw blanket.

* * *

The next day brings news of a block party on campus. Percy all but begs Annabeth to go although they still haven’t finished unpacking the apartment, but he gives her those baby seal eyes and she gives in. Besides, it’s just syllabus week, how busy could they get? 

So by 8:30 they’re making their way over to the square and met with the sorriest party Annabeth has ever laid eyes on (and she didn’t exactly spend her high school years attending ragers). There’s an open area decorated to be a dance floor, where a small group of people dance with far too much intensity for Annabeth to consider joining. To their left are a few preppy looking upperclassmen with their shirts tucked into khakis greeting new students and handing out wristbands for the food trucks parked nearby. But as Annabeth glances over at the line, but she’s certain that college has not changed her enough to wait in a line _that_ long for free food. A look at Percy’s face tells her he’s thinking the same thing. 

Before either of them suggests leaving, a deep voice calls Percy’s name from behind them. Annabeth turns around to see Charles Beckendorf making his way through the crowd to reach them. 

She hasn’t seen Beckendorf since he graduated during her sophomore year, but she knows he played a large part in getting (and keeping) Percy on the swim team and out of trouble during high school. 

Percy meets him and they do that weird back-slapping hug thing, then Beckendorf wraps Annabeth in a bone-crushing hug of her own. 

Beckendorf pulls back from her and places a heavy hand on both her and Percy’s shoulders. “Wow, it’s so good to see you guys. How’ve you been? I was so pumped to hear Percy say he was coming here for swimming.” 

Percy shrugs. “We’ve been pretty good. Got to spend the summer together looking for apartments, and we just moved in yesterday.” 

“Nice, nice. Checking out the block party?” Beckendorf smiles at them with a gleam in his eyes. 

She and Percy exchange a glance and shrug a bit at him. 

Beckendorf laughs. “Don’t worry, they’re always this bad. But they’re here to keep freshmen like you away from the frat and sorority parties, which is where I’m heading now. Silena’s sorority is co-hosting one tonight. You guys wanna join?” 

Percy looks at her with a look she reads as _why not?_ and Annabeth can’t argue. Though neither of them are party people, it wouldn’t hurt to socialize before classes start tomorrow and take over their schedule. Plus, it’s been a while since she’s gotten drunk, and she wouldn’t mind the distraction as school stress sets in. 

“Sure, why not?” She responds. 

Beckendorf grins and invites them to walk with him. 

The party is in a condo near campus, so the walk over is pleasantly short. Beckendorf gives Percy a rundown of the guys on the swim team and though Annabeth tries to listen, she drifts in and out of the conversation. 

They walk into the elevator of a very expensive-looking condo building and Beckendorf turns to them with a more serious expression on his face. 

“Okay, listen up. I know parties are supposed to be a fun thing, but there are some ground rules. Don’t drink anything you didn’t open or make yourself. That means stay away from the open punch bowl, you’ve got no clue what some asshole slipped into there. And stay with each other. Most of the people invited are chill, but some people aren’t invited. Just use the buddy system.” 

Percy nods, his eyes darting to Annabeth with concern. Annabeth rolls her eyes at his protectiveness but nods back. 

“Then, by all means, follow me.” 

He leads them from the elevator and through the massive crowd of people taking up the condo’s first floor. The music pounds in Annabeth’s chest and typical party-going smells of alcohol and sweat assault her nose. There’s nobody Annabeth recognizes, but that’s no surprise. She tries to keep up with introductions as Beckendorf introduces them to some guys on the swim team. 

At some point he gets dragged away by one of Silena’s sorority sisters (“ _Jeez Drew, alright! I’m coming!_ ”), leaving Percy and Annabeth alone in the sea of bodies and blaring music. She isn’t sure how it happens, but they end up pushed around the main floor until they find themselves at a kitchen island set up for beer pong. 

Annabeth looks up just in time to see a ping-pong ball sail almost effortlessly into the last solo cup. The throwing team, two girls with dark, braided hair and brown skin, erupts into cheers and taunts. 

The shorter of the two looks across the table at her defeated opponents and yells, “suck my dick, Chad!” 

A fratty looking guy, presumably Chad, narrows his eyes at her. “That’s cute, Piper. You got one of those?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Piper bats her eyelashes at him, chuckles at his expression, and rolls her eyes. “Who’s next?” She calls to the kitchen in general, clearly dismissing Chad and his equally frustrated partner. 

Her eyes scan the crowd, suddenly scrutinous, and Annabeth freezes under it. 

“You two!” She makes eye contact with Annabeth and points at her and Percy. “You look way too sober.” 

Percy shrugs and starts forward; Annabeth has to follow him to make sure they don’t get separated by the crowd. Chad and his partner are gone, leaving a space at the opposite end of the island. 

“Are you any good?” The taller of the two girls breaks her silence with a challenge. “We’ve taken down every pair here, so this is your chance to walk away with some dignity.” 

Annabeth steps forward in all of her competitive glory. “I’m pretty sure we can handle it.” She looks to her right and sees Percy grinning down at her. 

The taller girl tosses her long braid over her shoulder and gets to work setting up their cups while her partner introduces them.

“I’m Piper,” she says, “and this is Reyna.” Reyna looks up from the cups to nod briefly. 

“I’m Annabeth.” She lets Percy introduce himself and fills the cups Reyna hands her. Though Annabeth is no professional at beer pong, she and Percy had played as a team a few times at parties Rachel threw. Either they’re an amazing team, or they’re about to get smacked in the face with the entirely real possibility that most high schoolers are just god-awful at beer pong. 

This is the first thing to cross Annabeth’s mind when Piper’s first shot sinks straight into the cup closest to her. Annabeth takes one look at the smug faces across the table and chugs it without consulting Percy, who looks at her in a slight combination of awe and fear. 

“I’ll take the next one?” He raises an eyebrow at her. 

Annabeth wordlessly holds out her hand for the ball and he gives it to her with a chuckle. 

Dismay courses through her as it bounces off the rim between two cups and into Reyna’s waiting hand. Annabeth wishes she’d done some shots or something beforehand to loosen up, but she’s all tension as she waits for Reyna’s move. 

Another sinker. Percy reaches for the cup this time, but Annabeth gets to it and downs it first. 

He puts a hand on her shoulder and makes her face him. “You good?” 

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “I shoot better drunk. You shoot better sober. Let me take the first few.” They look at the satisfied faces of their opponents and then back at each other. 

“Alright, let’s do this.” He says.

Percy lines up his shot and gets it in the first try; Piper takes the first drink.

Annabeth’s shots increase in accuracy as the hum of alcohol in her veins becomes stronger. If Piper and Reyna are concerned about their odds, they don’t show it. They stay cool and collected whereas Percy and Annabeth grossly celebrate each shot made. Given the heat in her face and chest, Annabeth is sure she’s the worse of the two. She wonders how much Piper and Reyna have had to drink. 

Reyna certainly handles her alcohol with more grace than Piper, who grows more flirtatious with each drink. 

“So, Annababe—”

“Annabeth—”

“what’re you doing at a party like this?”

Percy’s throw cuts off Annabeth‘s response as the ball bounces off the rim and straight into the last cup. She turns to him, eyes wide in excitement, and the two of them begin a ridiculous victory dance complete with an elaborate handshake and a chest bump (Annabeth instantly regrets the latter). 

Piper’s mouth drops open as her eyes fall to the two cups left for her and Reyna to make. Reyna picks up a ball and rolls it around in her hand before taking her shot, which lands precariously in the cup. Percy picks it up and knocks it back, grimacing at the taste. 

All eyes are on Piper as she steps up to take her shot. The roar of voices and music coming from the living room seems to fade into the background while she lines herself up with flair. She throws–

the ball ricochets off the side of the cup and falls to the floor. The kitchen erupts into cheers as Percy downs the last cup out of spite.  
Piper and Reyna stand slack-jawed at their side of the island. Before Annabeth can rub it in their faces, Percy picks her up in a hug and swings her around, ripping her attention away.

Shouts to face them next break out across the kitchen. Percy grabs her hand, pulling her into the crowd and away from the beer pong setup. Annabeth laughs at the protests coming from behind them, but she just wants to _party_ now. Her whole body is warm and she’s with her best friend and she’s perfectly balanced between tipsy and drunk. 

Percy halts and she stumbles into him, so he wraps an arm around her shoulders and continues through the crowd. They take one glimpse at the mashing bodies out on the dance floor and immediately walk in the other direction. 

The edges of the night blur together, and Annabeth finds herself losing track of time. Did they end up dancing, or is she sweating because of how hot it is in here? Because wow, it’s _really_ hot in here. Does this sorority have downstairs neighbors? If so, she’s sorry for them because this place is _loud_. She feels the bass rattling her brain and pulls Percy away from the speaker with her.

They end up heading over to the drinks station on the opposite side of the condo. With Beckendorf’s advice in mind, Annabeth breaks the seal of a Smirnoff Ice. Percy grabs himself a Mike’s Hard when a tall blond guy comes up to Annabeth. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before, you rushing?” His eyes do a lazy once-over of her body.

Annabeth’s spine straightens on instinct, but she forces herself to relax. This is college. This is a new start. If she wants to flirt with guys at parties, then now is the time to do it. 

“Nah, I’m no sorority girl. I’m just here with some friends. This is my roommate, Percy.” Annabeth notices the way the blond dude’s eyes flit between them, lingering on Percy with something she can’t quite name. 

“So are you two…” he trails off. Annabeth is getting frustrated with this guy and the fact that she still doesn’t know his name. 

“Just friends.” Percy clarifies, his face searching the other boy’s similarly. 

“I’m Annabeth.” She interjects, rolling her eyes at whatever standoff is happening between them. 

The blond flashes a smile. “I’m Blake.” He ignores Percy’s presence as he introduces himself, which rubs Annabeth the wrong way. Anyone who treats her best friend this way isn’t worth flirting with. 

“So, Annabeth, how come I’ve never had the pleasure of laying eyes on you before?” Oof, even though she’s drunk, Annabeth can tell he’s laying it on thick. Still, she’s curious, so she answers. 

“I’m a freshman, so that’s probably why.” 

His smile grows insincerely wide. “Ah, fresh meat. You should—”

Annabeth never learns what Blake thinks she should do because Percy hooks a hand around her waist and pulls her back into the crowd as soon as the word _meat_ leaves Blake’s lips. 

He stops them near the entrance to a laundry room. “What a piece of shit.” 

“I was just about to tell him to shove it, you didn’t have to drag me away like that!” She protests. 

“Seriously, you okay? Because I’d be happy to go get an apology from him.”

“Percy, you are _not_ getting into a fight before school even starts. But hey, first college party experience wouldn’t be complete without some shitty frat guy.” Annabeth laughs, but it comes out sounding forced.

He looks like he’s about to argue, but she raises an eyebrow at him and he deflates. “Fine. Do you want to go back to the apartment instead? Because I make no promises if I see his face again.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but softens at the concern written on his face. “Yeah, let’s go. It’s getting late.” 

With that, they say goodbye to Beckendorf, make their way to the elevator, and stumble out into the city. 

Annabeth had hoped the subway would be empty enough for the two of them to get a seat, but the nearest subway stop is close to school, so their car is packed with college kids trying to balance all their to go boxes of free food. 

Percy and Annabeth end up standing at the back of the car. Percy is soberer and a born new Yorker, so he keeps a steady hand on Annabeth’s hip as the subway lurches them around. 

They stagger into their apartment at an ungodly hour and collapse onto the couch. Annabeth groans as Percy extracts himself and shuffles off into the kitchen, reappearing moments later with two blue Gatorades and some aspirin. 

“Ugh, you’re a godsend.” She says as he offers her a drink and two pills. 

“True.” He smiles down at her as she knocks back the Gatorade. “Hey there, champ. Slow down. We’re done with chugging for the night.” He chuckles and sits beside her on the couch. 

“You’re the champ. That last shot in beer pong was amazing.” 

Percy straightens and looks at her. “Was that a compliment? Drunk Annabeth is my new favorite Annabeth, hands down.” 

“You have a favorite Annabeth?” She’s too tired and tipsy to take offense. 

“Yeah, sleepy Annabeth. Not to be confused with tired Annabeth, who is a _raging_ bitch. But sleepy Annabeth is really affectionate. Also passionate Annabeth, but she scares me sometimes.” 

“Good to know. I’ll be sure to be a raging bitch more often.” 

“I take it back, I don’t like any Annabeths. I don’t know her.” 

She giggles and pinches his side, making him squirm. 

“Well I like protective Percy. He’s annoying and a bit of a bulldozer, but it’s nice knowing that someone has my back.” The words leave her mouth before she considers them and _damn it_ , there she goes, ruining the moment. Annabeth curses her lack of a filter for making the lighthearted conversation deep and meaningful. 

But Percy just stares back at her, open and kind. “Yeah, always. We’ve got each other’s backs.” 

Maybe it’s all the change in the past 48 hours, or maybe it’s the alcohol lingering in her system, but Annabeth tears up. The surprise on Percy’s face makes it clear he thinks he did something wrong, so Annabeth buries herself into his chest and wraps her arms around him. 

But there’s something from the party that still bothers her, something that didn’t register in the moment. 

She pulls away to meet his eyes. “When that guy asked about us, you said we were ‘ _just_ friends.’ I think that’s dumb. You aren’t _just_ anything to me. You’re my best friend. You’re important.” 

“I know, it’s just—”

Annabeth frowns at him. “Nope. No justs.” Her mouth fumbles with the consonants, making Percy chuckle and pull her in for another hug. Annabeth knows he isn’t taking her completely serious with her slurred sentiments, so she makes a note to say it again when she’s sober. Percy knows how much he means to her, but he deserves to hear it more often than he does. Because he means so much to her. 

Here in his embrace, Annabeth finds comfort in the familiarity of it all. Strip it all away, and it’s just them, supporting each other as they always have. They could be anywhere right now, at any point in their friendship, and she’s pretty sure the hug would look the same. 

Their friendship will always mean so much, no matter what changes college and life throw their way. 

“Wow.” She whispers. “We’re really doing this.”

Percy gives her a questioning look. “Doing what?” 

“College. Together. I guess it’s just now catching up with me that it’s actually happening. We’re free from high school, senior year stress…” She thinks of her family and how she’s free from that too, but she doesn’t say it out loud. 

“Yeah, now we’ve just got our names together on a lease. And bills. That’s nothing.” He knocks back his aspirin and laughs at her glare. “Kidding! I’m kidding. We’ll be fine.” 

Annabeth wrinkles her nose at him and then smiles. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.” 

* * *

Annabeth knew objectively that living with Percy meant seeing a new side of him, but she had no clue what that side would be. 

So, when she wakes up on the first day of class to him belting The Little Mermaid songs in the shower, all the times people have asked her if she’s _sure_ about living with him suddenly make sense. Of course, she’d spent the summer with him, but that was at Sally’s. 

At Sally’s, there was always a line. They had separate spaces and adult supervision. But this apartment— _their_ apartment—is almost entirely shared space. 

There are other habits she’s noticed as well. His shower power-ballads aren’t limited to Part of Your World, but are all songs he’d never admit to listening to. His favorites are Hannah Montana, Disney, and 80s, 90s, and 2000s hits. 

Some are just as harmless, yet infinitely more irritating. No matter how empty and accessible his laundry hamper is, his clothes end up in a pile on the floor next to it. Annabeth fights the urge to go in there and organize it into _proper_ piles on the floor, but she knows her own messy system won’t work for him. 

And there are the smaller things she’s picking up as well, like the way he cuts his waffles/pancakes before drowning them in syrup because, “it gets the best distribution, Annabeth. _Duh_.” Most of it is fun to learn, small little things that no one else knows about her best friend. 

What Annabeth didn’t account for was how much of a bathroom hog he is. She was initially happy that he’d beat her to the bathroom, thinking he was accounting for the fact that they have to be ready at the same time for class today and woke up early to make sure they both had time to get ready in their single bathroom. She couldn’t have been more wrong. 

It’s twenty minutes (and four and a half songs) later and he’s still in the shower. They both have 9:30 classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s nearing 8:45 now. Factor in the subway time and the fact that neither of them have any clue where their classes are, and Annabeth panics. 

She marches up to the door and bangs on it. 

Percy’s voice cracks as he stops singing and he yells “Annabeth?!”

“I need to get in there before class! You’ve been in there forever!” She responds. 

Thankfully, the shower turns off. She hears clumsy footsteps and a few small mishaps, and a few moments later the door opens to reveal Percy with nothing but a sheepish grin on his face and a towel around his waist. 

Annabeth rolls her eyes and shoves him past, thankful that she doesn’t take showers in the morning. Percy calls that he’s sorry after her and she ignores him as she turns on the water to wash her face. Her morning routine isn’t a long process, so she’s back in her room getting changed within ten minutes. 

Her door opens at 9:10 and Percy steps in to offer her a bacon and cheese bagel. 

“Didn’t have time for eggs, but I figured you weren’t gonna eat unless I brought you something.” 

She thanks him and takes the bagel, and they head out the door together. The wait for the subway isn’t terrible, but they end up standing on the ride to the university. 

They ride mostly in silence; Percy knows better than to interact with Annabeth when she’s stressed about time, especially when it’s his fault. She’ll be over it by the next time she sees him, but right now it’s the only thing on her mind. 

Annabeth reaches her English lecture two minutes before class starts and is dismayed to find the front rows taken or blocked by people spreading out their notebooks like they own the place. She finds a seat in the back and all but throws herself down into it. 

“Hey, Annababe.” 

Annabeth looks to her right to see Piper from the party sliding into the seat next to her with a wicked grin on her face. 

“I’m starting to think you forgot my actual name.” Annabeth laughs.

“Listen, I—” Whatever Piper would say is cut off as their English professor speaks and puts the syllabus on the screen at the front of the room.

After that, Annabeth’s focus zeroes in on the professor as she talks. Because this is _English_ , and she will not let the one English class her architecture major requires get in the way of keeping her scholarship. She feels bad whenever she sees Piper try to get her attention in her peripheral, but there’s too much information in this syllabus and the professor launches straight from that into a lecture about her expectations for essays. 

Thankfully, they’re dismissed five minutes early. As she packs up her things, Annabeth turns her attention to Piper. 

“Sorry about that, but English is my worst subject. You were saying something?”

Piper looks surprised that Annabeth is no longer ignoring her, then her face grows sheepish. “Uh, yeah. I wanted to apologize for how I acted at the party. It wasn’t cool of me, flirting with you with your boyfriend right there—”

“That isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my best friend.” Annabeth is getting a little tired of this assumption. It’s nothing new for them, but it rarely comes up as often as it has these past few days. 

Piper holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I don’t feel as bad about flirting, but now I’m interested. This is your pong partner? The same boy who spun you around when you won?” She looks around as the door opens and people pour in for the next lecture. “Hey, do you want to go get lunch? That was a long lecture and I want to try this café on campus.” 

Annabeth hesitates before answering, but she knows it’s a good idea to make a friend in each class, so she agrees to go along. 

“So,” Piper says as they walk out the doors, “English isn’t your thing. What is?” 

“Math. Architecture specifically, that’s my major. What about you?” She says as Piper jerks her head in the café’s direction. 

“I’m a psych major. I really like finding out what makes people tick. Speaking of, what’s the deal with tall, dark, and handsome?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Percy? He’s been my best friend for years.” 

Piper gives her a shit-eating grin. “So you think he’s tall, dark, and handsome?” 

Annabeth lengthens her stride, not intending to leave Piper behind, but making her annoyance clear. 

“Okay! No more boy talk for now, gotcha.” She jogs to keep up with Annabeth’s longer legs, and Annabeth slows. “Where are you from then?” 

“Virginia originally, but I lived here in the city for most of my life. Spent a year in San Francisco too.” 

“San Fran? Nice, I’m from LA.” Piper points at the small café on their right and they turn in. 

The smell of coffee and breakfast foods fills Annabeth’s nose. She inhales deeply and sees Piper doing the same. 

“Alright Piper, this was a good pick.” Her eyes flicker around the eclectic shop, zeroing in on the bookshelves lining an entire wall. This whole place looks like a Pinterest board, but in a good way. 

“I hope so. McLean needs caffeine.” 

Annabeth raises her eyebrows at Piper’s familiar last name and hometown but figures it isn’t her place to pry. Piper doesn’t seem like the type of person to want that out there. She looks into the other girl’s eyes to find them trusting, but tinged with concern. 

Relief floods Piper’s face when Annabeth answers. “I mean, same, but I’ve got no rhyme for Chase.” 

Piper looks as though she can think of plenty of rhymes, and Annabeth can just _feel_ the coming friendship. They’re going to be here for a while. 

* * *

The week is fairly easy after the first day. It’s busy, but the only difficulty lies in the adjustment to the new schedule and responsibilities. 

Well, not the _only_ difficulty. It’s been a lot lonelier than Annabeth ever expected. She ends up having Piper in both a Monday/Wednesday and a Tuesday/Thursday class, so she isn’t _alone_. They exchanged numbers that afternoon at the café, and they’ve spent a surprising amount of time talking since. Annabeth isn’t big on texting, but Piper is easy to talk to. 

Still, Annabeth finds herself lonely and missing Percy. She’s seen him every day this week, but mostly in passing. He knows better than to attempt conversation with Annabeth in the morning, and he’s had to come home late a few nights this week because of the start of swim practice and work at the diner down the street. 

Living together was supposed to be the best way to spend time together in college, but it feels like neither of them have made time for the other this week. Annabeth knows it’s too early for this to upset her, but she can’t help that it has. 

On Friday Annabeth passes the swim building on her way to the subway, so she peeks in and waits for Percy to get out of practice. 

She walks in and is assaulted by the smell of chlorine and the sight of about 20 guys in speedos. There are a few fans in the bleachers (mostly dedicated girlfriends) and most of the guys on the team are either finishing up their laps or walking to the locker room. 

Only a few boys have taken their caps off, so it takes Annabeth a while to spot Percy; she finds him in the pool, swimming in a lane where Beckendorf stands timing him. 

Watching Percy swim has always been fascinating to Annabeth, who knew nothing about the sport until he made the team in high school. There’s a certain grace with which he swims that she simply doesn’t see in the other swimmers at his meets, like he and the water are doing some intricate dance.

Of course, she knows it’s not as easy as that. Percy worked his ass off to get to the level he’s at today. She knows he’ll never say it, but he’s extremely proud of being a starter on the college team as a freshman, as he should be. 

Her attention is brought back to the pool as Percy pulls himself out of the water and receives a high five and hype up from Beckendorf, who is waving his phone screen around in Percy’s face. They turn and make their way towards the locker room, so Annabeth waves to catch their attention. 

Beckendorf is the one to spot her. He elbows Percy and they change course to come see her. 

“Annabeth! Guess who just PRed?” Beckendorf calls from a few feet away while brandishing at Percy. 

Percy scratches the back of his head and shoves Beckendorf playfully. 

Annabeth laughs as Beckendorf grabs Percy’s shoulders and shakes him, looking beyond proud. 

Percy breaks free from his grip as Beckendorf leaves, and he moves to hug Annabeth, who puts a hand out to stop him. 

“No thanks, Michael Phelps. You’re soaked.” Annabeth’s eyes widen as Percy’s light up with devious intent. “Oh no… No. Nonono!” She backs away and he gives chase, trapping her against his chest. 

“I’m so glad you came to see me, Annabeth!” He says sarcastically as she attempts to smack his arms, feeling the water seep into her clothes. He drops her once she kicks him in the shin.

“Go change, asshole.” She shoves him toward the locker room. 

While he’s gone, she takes out a book and sits down at the front of the bleachers. A few guys from the team file out, a few familiar enough to wave goodbye as they pass (she hopes any memories they have of her from the party are of her beer pong skills and not her celebrations). 

One boy comes out and stops when he sees her. Annabeth feels his eyes on her and turns to see what’s going on. 

She’s met with his brown eyes studying her carefully and is thrown off by his sudden smile. He furrows his brow and points at her like he recognizes her. 

“Hey, we meet at the Delta Gamma party.” His voice lilts up at the end of the sentence like a question. Annabeth didn’t know the name of the sorority, but given the amount of swim team members there, it’s entirely possible he was one of the people Beckendorf introduced. Not wanting to offend, she gives him a slight smile and nod. 

“Yeah! You waiting for Jackson?” He asks. 

Annabeth tries to make out what he’s implying, but she can’t get a read on him. Or maybe he just saw them when Percy got out of the pool. 

“Yeah, he’s my roommate.” She says politely.

The boy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, are you two together?”

“No.” Annabeth says. “Longtime friends.” 

He puts his hands up in submission. “Alright, just asking. My name is Matt, by the way.” Matt holds out a hand to her, which she shakes, surprised at his formality. 

“Annabeth.” She replies. 

“Okay, Annabeth. I gotta go to class, but I’ll see you around.” With that, Matt turns and walks toward the exit. 

Annabeth just has time to think about how awkward that was before the locker room opens and Percy comes out to see Matt leaving. 

“What’s his deal?” She asks Percy once the door closes behind Matt. 

“Sloan? Not sure. He’s a good swimmer—probably one of the best on the team—but apparently pretty private. Beckendorf gave me the rundown on most of these guys, but he didn’t say much about him. Did he give you trouble?” Percy’s eyes trail from the door to her face. 

“No, just seemed a little weird. Also thought we were together when I said we were roommates.” 

Percy rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve gotten that a lot too. I guess this is our life for the next year.” 

Annabeth chuckles and nudges him. “Come on, let’s go back to the apartment.” 

The issue with going back to the apartment is that their schedules haven’t lined up enough for them to go grocery shopping, so dinner options are scarce. After wandering around the kitchen for a solid ten minutes, they order from their favorite shitty pizza place and have a night in. 

Percy plops onto the couch with two slices of pizza stacked on top of each other in one hand. He sees her judging eyes and takes mock offence. 

“When you stack them like this, it’s the same as eating one slice. The body doesn’t know.” He says matter-of-factly. 

Annabeth groans through a mouthful of pizza as he laughs at his own joke and reaches for the TV remote. She plucks it out of his hand before he can get it greasy. 

“Hey! They’re doing shark week reruns on Nat Geo.” 

Annabeth sets the remote on her opposite side and turns to him. “Shark week later. I want to know how your first week went! I feel like we haven’t seen each other.” 

He launches into a rapid-fire discussion of his bio class and the friends he’s made in it, namely a guy in his lab named Frank. Percy’s eyes light with a mad scientist brand of excitement as he discusses the labs they’re supposed to do this semester. His grin spreads across his face as he talks. 

“I just feel like I’m finally learning things that are _useful_ , ya know? High school never really did that for me and I—what’s wrong?” Percy’s brows crinkle in worry and he sets his pizza down on the coffee table (she’ll yell at him for it later). 

Annabeth, who wasn’t aware she had any visible reaction to his words, is taken aback by his sudden change. “Huh?” 

“You’re chewing your lip. You only do that when you’re anxious.” 

She pauses with her lip between her teeth and releases it. “I’m fine, keep telling me about the rest of your classes.” 

He gives her an incredulous look and stays silent. 

“Okay, so this week wasn’t _bad_ , but it wasn’t what I thought it’d be. I was expecting more… time? Together at least. I don’t want us to have to catch up on weekends like we don’t live in the same apartment.” Though she doesn’t try to, Annabeth can feel her eyes avoiding his as she talks. 

Percy nods like he understands and moves into her line of sight to make eye contact. “I feel like that too, but it’s the first week. Now that we know our schedules, we can figure out how to make time.” 

“I just don’t want to form any habits.” 

“Of course. We’ll work on it. And I’m all yours tomorrow.” He picks up his pizza and smiles at her mid bite. 

She smiles too. Saturday is the one day where neither of them have anything scheduled, and she’s been counting down to it all week. They didn’t explicitly say not to make any plans that day, but she’s happy he kept it free for her. Maybe they’re on the right track after all. 

“With that said, can we please turn on shark week?” He makes a lunge for the remote.

Annabeth pulls it out of his reach. “Hold on, buddy. We have to talk about your bathroom habits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Me and you, me and you, me and you,  
>  We could do better, I'm quite sure. **
> 
>   
> Wow! I finally made it to posting the first chapter of this fic! Special thanks to Megan (@jasonsmclean on AO3 and tumblr) for keeping me motivated and so in love with this fic. I hope you like it as much as we do!
> 
> This chapter is a lot longer than I'm expecting future ones to be, mainly because it's 90% exposition. My updates won't be scheduled because I'm a college student and terrible with deadlines, but I'll give updates on my tumblr (@bipercabeth) when I'm getting closer to finishing a chapter. Feel free to visit over there and chat!
> 
> The song for this chapter is Bros by Wolf Alice.


	2. i don't wanna be your friend (i wanna kiss your neck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **According to your heart,**  
>  **my place is not deliberate.**  
> 

Saturday is the best day of the week, in Annabeth’s humble opinion. 

The whole day is perfect, really. The New York weather is kind, giving them a beautiful combination of partly cloudy skies and the beginnings of a fall breeze. Central Park is still green and the city bustles with an excited energy. 

Annabeth and Percy sit on the same rock they frequented during weekends with Grover in high school. The space between them feels a bit bigger than normal in his absence, so Annabeth scoots closer to Percy. For old time’s sake. 

Together they watch someone struggle to catch their dog, which escaped its leash and now plays a one-sided game of keep-away. The dog is just playing and not in danger of running away, so they’re happy to spectate. 

Percy takes a deep inhale of the crisp air and sighs it out. “I missed this.” 

Annabeth pulls her gaze from the scene in front of them and looks at his profile. There’s a nostalgia in his eyes she’s sure reflects in her own, but a sadness dwells in them as well. “Grover?” She asks.

“Yeah, Grover.” He nods and looks at his lap. “Four hours, man.” 

Grover going to college upstate affects both of them, but moments like this remind Annabeth how close Percy and Grover are. Annabeth is used to seeing Grover on her weekends off, but Percy is adjusting from seeing him every day. 

She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder; his eyes flicker up to her and soften. 

“But I’ve still got you.” He says with a smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And we’re living together, and we’re doing the college thing, and we’re spending Saturday together. It’ll be alright.” 

“ _And_ ,” she elbows his side, “Grover is bussing down for the first meet. You’ll see him in a few weeks.”  
Percy’s head whips around to look at her. 

“You _cannot_ tell him I’m telling you. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” There’s a genuine threat in her voice, but Percy just pulls her into a hug. “Can’t breathe.” Annabeth pretends to choke against him and he releases her, beaming. “Don’t get all sentimental on me. I just didn’t want to deal with your moping for weeks.”

His smiles remains as he rolls his eyes. “Of course.” 

They turn their attention back to the park in front of them and watch as the dog is finally caught. Annabeth pulls out her phone and rests her head on his shoulder for a Snapchat selfie. Percy notices and puts his head on hers before she snaps the picture and holds her phone up for him to examine. 

He nods his approval and Annabeth straightens up to save it. She doesn’t post it anywhere, but she wants to be reminded of this day a year from now. 

Other little moments of the day get documented as well: a panoramic video of the surrounding park, a photo of Percy pointing at a massive rat on the subway (captioned ‘ _New York City, baby!_ ’), a picture of him with straws hanging from his mouth during dinner at their favorite diner down the street. 

The glorious day ends with a laid-back movie night back at the apartment. Annabeth sets up the TV while Percy heats up the popcorn, and the smell of it drifts throughout the living room. He dims the lights on his way back to the couch, carrying the bowl of popcorn in one hand before setting it down on the coffee table. 

Their long legs fight for space on the couch and somehow end up tangled enough to be both comfortable and too much effort to rearrange. They settle down once the opening scene plays but end up talking though the whole first fifteen minutes. 

Annabeth picked Hercules for the night, if only to improve the quality of Percy’s shower serenades (and by _quality_ , she means _hilarity_ ). Percy tells her to shut up as she picks apart the movie’s inaccuracies (she’s counted 12, and they aren’t even past the third song), and she kicks him each time he makes a terrible pun. She ends up kicking him a lot. 

After the worst pun of the night, (‘ _It’s a_ sword fish, _Annabeth!_ ’ he cries as Hercules attempts to fight the centaur with a fish he pulls from the lake) Annabeth yells and kicks Percy square in the shoulder. It’s not a powerful kick, but he puts his hand on the point of impact and rolls it backward while trying to avoid her gaze. 

Annabeth’s mood switches from exasperation to concern. She sits forward and gives him a look of questioning he shrinks away from with a bashful smile. 

“Swim practice?” She asks. 

“Swim _workouts_.” He clarifies, still holding his shoulder. 

All Annabeth does is point at the floor in front of her and raise an eyebrow, but Percy moves to sit where she points without a word. 

He faces the TV with his back to her, so she slides a leg on either side of him and pulls him back toward her. 

“Ow!” Percy tries to lean away as she works the knots out of his shoulders, but she sweeps her legs under his arms and locks them around his waist to keep him there. 

“ _God_ , Perce. How do you live like this?” She sighs, digging her fingers into the space between his shoulder blades and finding a rock-hard knot. 

He makes another sound of protest in response, but eventually gives in and tries to focus on the movie. Once the initial pain fades away, he becomes a lot more compliant, letting his head roll when Annabeth finds a particularly good spot. 

She doesn’t let up until the plot picks up and Hercules loses his strength. Percy shrugs her off and sits forward as far as her legs will allow him, so she releases him with a smile and watches him lean in. 

After the excitement, he falls back against the couch and lets his head rest against her leg. Amused by how enraptured he is by the movie, Annabeth smooths her fingers through his hair, taking time to appreciate how pliant he is under her touch. Percy hums in contentment as she twists it between her fingers and plays with the mess, fully aware that she’ll never be able to tame it. 

By the time the credits roll, it’s nearing one in the morning. The black light of the TV in the dark living room has mercy on Annabeth’s tired eyes as the names drag past. 

Percy’s joints pop as he stands and stretches his arms above his head. “It’s been a good day.” He says with a sleepy grin. 

Annabeth groans as she stands beside him. She nods her head and rubs the sleep from her eyes to make out the look on his face. There’s a smile there, which she returns, and that’s all she can ask for.

* * *

Percy waits tables at a diner down the street on Sunday, so Annabeth wakes up in the late morning to an empty apartment. She shuffles through her morning routine and heats up some pancakes he left for her in the freezer. 

The afternoon is spent peacefully—not the same serenity as yesterday but relaxed nonetheless. Annabeth spreads her books across their tiny kitchen table and sketches as sunlight spills into the apartment. 

She stays like that until afternoon clouds cover the sun and the room loses its golden glow. Though Annabeth feels Percy’s absence, right now it’s a good thing; she is a creature of habit who had ample alone time growing up, and she learned to appreciate the silent moments when she can. Time to recharge will only get harder to come by. 

By the time she realizes she might want to grab lunch, her bullet journal is full of calendars, trackers, and doodles (if only to spite Percy now that he’s claimed she won’t keep up with it). Annabeth marks her page and closes the book, unlocking her phone for the first time all day. 

There’s a text from Piper asking about the correct deadline for a faraway English assignment, and Annabeth’s finger hovers over the unopened message. She and Piper have seen a lot of each other this week, but each instance was born of convenience. Piper approached her first every time, which Annabeth is grateful for. But now that the reality of hers and Percy’s conflicting schedules is setting in, Annabeth realizes she might have to make the effort to branch out and make friends outside of him and Grover. 

Her heartbeat quickens as she types out a response with the correct date and follows it with one asking if Piper is busy today. The responding ‘no’ and invitation out follow almost instantly. 

They meet at a coffee shop halfway between the apartment and campus where Piper lives in a dorm. After hearing that Piper never spent a prolonged period in New York before moving here for college, Annabeth decided to make it her personal mission to show her the best spots in the city, much like Percy had when she moved here from Virginia. She doesn’t plan to tell Piper this, but her face as Annabeth gushes over the menu tells Annabeth she doesn’t need to. 

The true New York experience would be somewhat inhibited by the fact that Piper is a vegetarian, but Annabeth can work with that. They just have to avoid food carts. 

Today’s coffee shop is similar to the café on campus, but it’s quieter, a place you can stay for hours without getting death glares for taking a table for so long. On days where she can’t be bothered to make it to the library, Annabeth expects she’ll find herself here, crammed into her corner booth.

She wouldn’t mind having Piper across the table more often. Annabeth smiles as Piper gets up to grab their drinks, an iced green tea for Annabeth and some caffeinated monstrosity for Piper. 

“No coffee?” Piper asks as she slides back into the booth. 

“Nah, I’m starting to get tired of it. Occupational hazard.” 

“Ah yes, how goes the Starbucks job?” Piper lets her coffee cool and leans onto the table to listen. 

“Not too bad now that Jason has unofficially taken over training me. Emily was a nightmare.” Annabeth notices how Piper’s eyes light up and has to withhold her eye roll. 

“Let me know if she gives you more trouble. I’ll gladly stop in and defend your honor.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just coming to stare at my coworker?”

“I’m good at multitasking.” Piper leans back as Annabeth laughs. “You should know I take flirting with blond baristas _very_ seriously, Annababe.” 

“You’re never gonna give up that nickname, are you?” 

“Nope.” Piper pops the ‘p’ and smiles as she takes a prolonged sip of her coffee. 

Annabeth crosses her arms and sits back. “Well if you visit every time I work, your caffeine addiction is actually going to kill you. Are you trying to have a heart attack before 20, McLean?”

“The things we do for love.” 

“Again, I’m flattered.” 

“I’m talking about Jason, but okay.” 

“I actually hate you.” 

The conversation continues until Annabeth gives in and agrees to get Jason’s number for Piper. Not that Piper needs her help—Jason blushed bright pink and stammered his way through her complicated order the first time he saw her. 

They end up staying at the coffee shop for a few hours, so Annabeth invites Piper over to hang out at the apartment. Soon they’re sitting across from each other on the couch, occasionally tossing a bag of chips between them. Piper challenges Annabeth to a contest to see who can catch the most in their mouth and makes the first shot at Annabeth’s face when Percy walks through the door. 

Piper’s jaw drops so far that she would probably score if Annabeth threw a chip right now. Her eyes light up with a devious gleam at the sight of Percy, like she’s trying to hold back a laugh, and Annabeth realizes that she never mentioned living with him. 

“No.” Annabeth says firmly and kicks Piper in the shin. 

“Huh?” Percy looks over at her from the entryway where he sets down his keys. His eyes find Piper for the first time and he waves. “Hey, I’m Percy.” 

Piper shoots him a peace sign and introduces herself. Annabeth can tell from Percy’s body language that he’s surprised, and she regrets not giving him a head’s up about having company. He’s probably exhausted from the long shift. Still, he’s nothing but nice to Piper. The two strike up a good-natured conversation when she asks him about the skateboard sitting in the corner and their eyes light up with mutual excitement. 

Annabeth can’t help her smile and rises from the couch to hide it, choosing instead to walk into the kitchen and fiddle with the pencil cup on the counter. 

Of course, she’s followed. Piper appears next to her and smiles wickedly at her fidgeting hands. Then her eyes lock on something in the cup: the small bi pride flag poking out among the stationary. 

“Oh?” Piper smiles, this time sincerely. Her eyebrows soften instead of launching upward, which Annabeth takes as a good sign—not that she’d assume Piper to be rude about this sort of thing. 

“Yeah.” A defensive edge creeps into Annabeth’s voice out of habit, but she closes her eyes and bats it away. 

Percy saves her, popping into the kitchen and leaning against the wall. “We both are, actually.” He chimes in. “Bi, that is.” 

How he says that so casually, offers up such a huge part of himself with bright eyes and a kind smile, is mind-blowing to Annabeth. Piper is _Annabeth’s_ friend and she _still_ feels reservations about sharing something so big with her. But Percy is open, trusting. 

“I’m pan.” Piper says it like it’s something you can say over coffee, and maybe it is to her, but it absolutely stumps Annabeth. 

But Percy just nods easily. “Nice, you make it out to pride this summer?” And then they’re striking up conversation again. 

This is the part of friendship Annabeth always struggled with; socialization and easy conversation have never been her strong suits. She’s lucky that Piper is so easy to talk to, otherwise she doubts she’d have any semblance of a close friend outside of Percy. She’s so close to Percy that it’s easy to forget, but the ease with which he and Piper talk baffles her. 

When Percy leaves the room to change out of his work clothes, Piper shuffles closer to Annabeth and nudges her with her shoulder. 

Her voice is insistent. “Okay, for real. Are you two—” 

“I don’t have to date him because he’s not gay, is attractive, and lives with me.” Annabeth interrupts. Piper’s victorious smirk tells her she said something wrong. 

“I never said he was attractive.” She teases. 

“Yes, you did! Several ti—” Annabeth cuts off when Percy walks back out, unsure of why she feels like he caught her in the middle of something private. People confuse her and Percy for a couple all the time. But Piper isn’t confused.

Piper edges closer to Annabeth and looks him up and down as he walks to the bathroom in sweatpants and a t-shirt. “But it _was_ implied,” she whispers.

* * *

This Saturday is much lazier, much to Annabeth’s delight. Neither of them has any obligations for the second weekend in a row, so she lets Percy sleep in and microwaves herself breakfast. 

Percy emerges from his room at around 11:30 wearing plaid pajama pants, a lazy smile and little else. This week wasn’t the improvement they were aiming for in terms of time together, so it’s possible she missed small details, but she’s pretty sure _usually_ wears a shirt. He doesn’t today. 

He walks past where she sits on the couch and ruffles her hair as he passes. His own hair is an absolute bird’s nest that would probably ensnare her fingers if she tried to run them through it. Not that Annabeth is thinking about running her hands through his hair, merely thinking about how messy it is. 

As he turns his back to her and reaches up into the top cabinet for cereal, Annabeth is absolutely certain this is the first time he’s lounged around without a shirt. Sure, there have been times in passing—like when they’re in a rush and fighting over the bathroom—but he’s never _hung out_ shirtless before. 

She’s seen Percy shirtless loads of times (the swim uniform is a _speedo_ , for god’s sake), but there was always something else going on during those times: anxiety for a meet, a conversation, something to give her mind something to do. The quiet morning offers her no such distractions. 

The muscles in his shoulders flex as he reaches up to return the cereal to the top cabinet and _wow_ , those swim workouts have been paying off. 

Shit. Annabeth cannot be having these thoughts. He’s her roommate! And more importantly, he’s her best friend. There’s no room in this relationship for any attraction. It’s been too long since her last boyfriend; she just needs to get some. Annabeth makes a mental note to ask Piper about upcoming parties. 

Besides, this isn’t the first time she’s had these thoughts about Percy. In fact, she’d had one hell of a crush on him during freshman year of high school. They’d even been each other’s first kiss, though it sounds far more ceremonious than it was. 

They were sitting on the shore of the beach at Montauk, one last summer breeze blowing off of the ocean like the season was saying goodbye. After her disaster of an eighth-grade year, her dad and step-mom allowed her to go to New York two weeks early to stay with the Jacksons. 

Sally had gone inside to start on dinner with Paul, who had come into the picture during Annabeth’s year away, while Percy and Annabeth stayed outside to watch the sunset. The clouds lit up in brilliant oranges and pinks, and Annabeth swore the San Francisco sky could never compare.  
Her serenity didn’t seem to extend to Percy, who kept poking at the sand between his legs in frustration. Annabeth had expected him to change while she was gone, but she hadn’t expected to see a day when Percy Jackson didn’t marvel at the sight of sunlight reflecting off the waves. 

“You okay?” She asked, nudging his shoulder with her own. 

“Yeah.” His voice was flat and his gaze stayed fixed on the sand.

“You don’t _sound_ okay.” 

“It’s just—high school. It’s so _different_. We aren’t going to be in the same classes. Who am I supposed to eat lunch with?” 

“Who did you eat lunch with last year?”

He looked at her with his nose wrinkled. “No one. I just stayed in Mr. Brunner’s room. I guess I could go to Paul’s, but now he’s dating my mom and that just feels weird.” 

Annabeth smacked his arm. 

“Hey!” He protested. 

She pointed a finger at him. “You are _not_ eating alone in a classroom, Percy Jackson. You are going to talk to people and make friends, and then you’re going to introduce those friends to me, and then we’re all going to hang out together on weekends.”

“Wow, you’ve got it all planned out, huh?” He rubbed his arm. 

Annabeth nodded and directed her eyes back to the horizon, expecting him to join her in watching it. When he doesn’t, she turns to him again. 

“You aren’t feeling better. Why not? I just gave you a solution.” 

“You gave me a _to-do list_. But that’s not the only thing I’m worried about, Annabeth. There’s so much that’s changing, not just the school.” He paused and weighed his next words. “People start _dating_ in high school. What if I’m bad at it? What if I’m the worst kisser in the world and I don’t find out until I’ve given the love of my life the worst kiss ever?” Percy’s distress seeped into his voice. 

“You aren’t the worst kisser in the world. Do you know how bad you’d have to be for that to be true? It’s almost impossible.” To her surprise, this didn’t cheer him up. 

“Fine, not the complete worst. But I could still suck.” 

Annabeth, in all of her crushy messiness, could not stop the thought of Percy’s lips on her own from entering her mind. “Well, you probably aren’t a bad kisser either. And if you are, it isn’t a big deal anyway. I bet tons of girls haven’t had their first kiss, so they won’t have anything better to compare it to.” 

Percy still didn’t smile. Instead, his brows crinkled in thought. 

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “So, you kissed someone then? In California?” 

She actually laughed. “No, I just don’t think it’s a big deal.” 

To prove her point, Annabeth turned to him, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled his face to hers. Her eyes were clenched shut, but all of her other senses were on overdrive taking in the feeling of Percy’s lips and the way they hesitated, then moved against her own. He made a small noise in the back of his throat; it was almost drowned out by the waves, but Annabeth caught it. It wasn’t an amazing kiss, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. She wasn’t sure if that made it easier or harder to pull away, but she knew she had to. 

She gives herself a moment to catch her breath. “See? No big deal. And you aren’t the worst kisser in the world.” 

Percy just looked at her, all red-cheeked and wide-eyed, but that was Annabeth back then, all defiance and a desire to prove herself. 

The kiss was absolutely a big deal. Not anymore of course, but it took Annabeth a long time to find normality after that. 

She never told Percy how she felt. She was in New York City without a home or a family, how could she risk losing the one person who had consistently been there for her? He was just familiar; she was just projecting onto him because she was desperate for what he symbolized to her. It made sense. It was logical after all the change in the past two years. The crush would go away with time. 

Only it didn’t. Annabeth clutched her feelings close to her chest all of freshman year. The worst part was it wasn’t even difficult to act normal around him. Everything always felt so natural. In fact, she doubts he even noticed a difference in her behavior. 

Things got even easier once Grover joined the dynamic. His presence added some normality to their time together, acting as a barrier from alone time and stopping Annabeth from saying anything she’d regret. And Grover was a good friend; he was steadfast and nurturing in his friendships, and he was Annabeth’s first real friend after Percy. 

With Grover in the picture, Annabeth figured that her crush on Percy was due to fade any day. The reasons she had given herself for crushing on him were fading, so surely the crush would too. 

When she realized the crush wasn’t going anywhere, it was the summer before sophomore year, and they were watching the sunset again. Annabeth steeled herself. This was the perfect time to do it, to say _fuck it_ and go for it. The sun was hanging low over the water and the sky was on fire and if she didn’t do it then, she never would. 

“Annabeth, you’re a girl.” Percy voice was careful, cautious; almost a question. Annabeth’s heart leapt into her throat; maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything at all. 

She swallowed and prayed her voice would keep steady. “Yeah, last I checked.” 

“So you know stuff about, like, asking girls out, right?”

This time Annabeth didn’t trust her voice, so she shrugged in response. 

“Do you think you could help me ask out Rachel? We’ve been hanging out a lot lately and I really like her. I just don’t want to mess anything up.” 

Annabeth’s heart sank down into the pit of her stomach and was replaced by a stab of jealousy. Percy not liking her? She could handle it. (Not _well_ , but she could handle it.) Percy liking someone else? That would be a lot harder to stomach. But she swallowed her pride and her emotions and nodded silently. 

“You’d help? That means so much Annabeth, you’re the best.” Relief was clear in his voice. 

That should have made her feel better, right? This saved her friendship with Percy. She could only imagine what would’ve happened if she’d gathered her courage ten seconds sooner. 

But as it turned out, Percy and Rachel were short-lived anyway. They dated for about two months at the beginning of the year—before Annabeth’s jealousy could properly rear its ugly head—and then had a mysterious falling out. It wasn’t hostile, but it was the one thing Percy wouldn’t talk about with her. She still doesn’t know what it was over, and he even told _Grover_. 

Annabeth is happy that things turned out the way they did, honestly. When Percy and Rachel broke up, they stopped talking. It wasn’t out of ill will, which made Annabeth even more curious about it; they just didn’t fit together the way they did before they dated. 

They ended up reconnecting after Rachel came out as gay in the latter half of junior year, but that was long after Annabeth decided to squash her feelings for Percy altogether. She had learned her lesson. Her crush on Percy wasn’t nearly as important as keeping him in her life. After she saw what happened between him and Rachel (and the few significant others who came after), Annabeth discarded her feelings completely. 

Those were _feelings_ , but what Annabeth is feeling right now as she watches him stroll around the kitchen? This is nothing of the sort. There isn’t even a need to correct her thoughts, only to address the reason she’s having them, which is that it had been too long since she’s gotten any action. Plus, it’s a time of transition, just like high school. Of course she’s clinging to Percy the way she is. It makes sense. Annabeth won’t make the mistake of getting feelings for him twice now that she knows they’re temporary. 

A comfortable silence sits between them as she returns her eyes to her textbook and he falls into the couch across from her. She puts her legs into his lap to get more comfortable and tries to power through the segment she needs to get done for English. 

Percy’s hand rests on her shin, as it often does when they sit like this, and he scrolls quietly on his phone. 

Annabeth’s dyslexia and ADHD are on overdrive this morning, focusing on everything in the room other than the words that seem to scatter around the page. Instead she focuses on his fingertips and the way they drum against her leg now and then, the smell of ocean and chlorine that always seems to cling to him, the little exhales he makes out of his nose when he sees something funny on his feed. 

They stay like that for the better part of the morning. Annabeth tries to finish her reading, but eventually gives up and pushes the book off her lap in frustration. 

“Do you want to go do something today?” She asks impatiently. 

Percy looks up at her, somewhat startled by her outburst. “Honestly? No. I just want to stay home with you.” 

Her heartbeat quickens at that. Oh no. “Home?” 

He answers her calmly and casually, oblivious to the fact that every word is bringing her walls crashing down. “Yeah. I mean, we live here, but I think it’s home too. Not more than my mom’s, but pretty even. When I visit there, I’m going to have to pack and live out of a bag if I stay the night. This is where my stuff is, where you are. It’s home.”

Annabeth’s mind picks up on that “ _where you are_ ” and clings to it. The more she thinks about it, the more she feels the same way. When she begged her family to let her leave California, she asked them to let her go home, but she’s not sure she meant New York City. She lived in Virginia just as long, but it wasn’t home in the same way California wasn’t. Home has always been where Percy is, and that’s speaking strictly platonically. 

This little apartment really is her first concrete home. 

Annabeth has lived with her bags packed and one foot out the door for what feels like her entire life. There’s no telling how many backpacks she stuffed supplies into before running away all those times when she was seven, and she lived out of her suitcases the entire eighth grade year out of protest. By the time she got to boarding school, there was never enough space between breaks and school closing to settle. She was living, but there was always something that stayed in the bottom of her suitcase for the sake of convenience. 

But she’s completely unpacked here. All of her things are organized (or unorganized) to her liking, and her suitcases sit empty in the top of her closet.

Percy and this apartment have given that to her, that sense of comfort and belonging. 

She pokes his thigh with her foot. “Then what _do_ you want to do at home?”

He shoots her that troublemaker grin she’s all too familiar with and her heart rate does _not_ double at the sight. “I was thinking cookies?” His smile widens with hers and then they’re racing into the kitchen to raid the recently stocked pantry. 

Percy pulls out everything they need with practiced ease. They both know better than to let Annabeth handle the ingredients, so she sticks to utensils and passes him what he needs. Together they make a mean baking team. 

Stirring is harmless enough, so he hands Annabeth the bowl before she can give him the spoon. She points it at him threateningly. 

“You know this means I get all of the batter that sticks to this bad boy, right? You forfeit that right as chef?” 

Percy raises his hands in mock surrender and tries to suppress the smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” Annabeth nods and adds wet to dry and mixes vigorously. Percy just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter to watch her slave away. She lifts an eyebrow at him and feels butterflies in her stomach from the grin he gives her. 

Her hair is suddenly a nuisance. She wrestles it into a bun and continues working without risking another glance in his direction. He stays still in her peripheral, sitting back and smiling, but she isn’t paying attention. Just mixing cookie dough. That’s all that’s on her mind right now, making cookies with her best friend. 

Apparently she focuses a little too hard on the mixing, because she jumps when Percy is suddenly beside her and taking the bowl away from her to add dye.

He gives her a concerned glance and puts down the dye. “You okay?” 

She knows he can tell something is up, so she doesn’t waste their time with a full-blown lie, just one of omission. “Yeah, just stressed about school. My ADHD has been acting up a lot today.” 

Percy nods like he understands and reaches out for her. He pulls her into his chest by her shoulder and wraps his arms around her steadily. 

Annabeth can’t help the way her body sighs into his. His embrace is full of comfort and empathy and familiarity and she wants to stay here for far longer than acceptable. But he doesn’t pull away, like he knows she needs this right now. So there they stay, hugging in the kitchen for far longer than acceptable. 

He reaches up to ruffle her hair and she steps back, feeling a grin stretch across her face as he pulls her over to the dye. There’s no way she’s staining her hands for the next several days, so she lets him roll the dough and set it on the sheet. 

Once the cookies sit in the oven, they set a timer and take a seat on the couch again. 

The book is still lying on the floor from when Annabeth shoved it away. Percy bends down to grab it and puts it in his lap as he turns to her. 

“What page?” He asks. 

“Percy, I’m not going to make you study with me on your one day off.” Annabeth starts. 

Percy cuts her off again. “What page?” She shakes her head at him and he frowns. “Either you tell me a page number or I’m going to read this entire book out loud, and neither of us wants that.” 

His tone and face tell her he’s serious, so she leans back into the cushion with crossed arms and gives up the number. A triumphant look crosses his face as he opens the book and reads to her. 

Annabeth keeps her eyes on him, and her attention miraculously doesn’t wander. The words he’s saying process better than they have all morning, and her eyes stay fixed on his as they scan from page to page and occasionally glance up at her. There are moments where he stumbles over the words like she would’ve, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that they nearly get through an entire chapter together. With five minutes left on the oven timer, Annabeth slides the book out of Percy’s grip and takes a turn reading, not wanting him to struggle on his own for her benefit. He lets her take it from him, but he follows her to her side of the couch and lays with his head on the cushion near her leg. 

He gazes up at her as she finds the spot where he left off and reads out loud. After no time at all, his eyes are drooping closed with each word. Annabeth lets him drift off, knowing how much he needs to rest after the past two weeks. 

The nap is short lived since the timer buzzes a few minutes later, and he’s instantly awake when the smell of fresh cookies drifts through the apartment. 

There’s already an oven mitt on Percy’s hand when Annabeth makes it to the kitchen. She turns off the timer and the oven before opening the door and stepping back to give Percy space. He maneuvers them onto the counter and throws his hands in the air in celebration. Annabeth has to stop him from immediately reaching for one and burning himself. 

Never one to be deterred, Percy chases Annabeth around the apartment (she will _not_ say the _h-word_ so casually yet) and attempts to double back to the kitchen for another try. He catches her hand as she reaches out to slap his and uses it to pull her into a tight, swaying hug that feels far too much like home, and Annabeth wonders exactly what she’s gotten herself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **On this night, and in this light,**  
>  **I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you.**  
>  **And maybe you change your mind.**
> 
>   
> Hello there! I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long, but my life got crazy busy about two days after I posted chapter one. I also started another fic with @jasonsmclean that took up a fair amount of time, but chapter three has a considerable amount already written from when I got carried away planning this bad boy. Hopefully that means it won't take me a month(!) to update again, but school is a little wild right now. Thank you for being so kind and patient! I appreciate everyone who has commented here or messaged me on tumblr, those little gestures give me so much inspiration to keep going with this story. The song for this chapter is fallingforyou // The 1975  
> As always, if you want to ask questions or just scream about this fic with me, the best place to go is my tumblr (@bipercabeth), but I do my best to respond to all comments here as well! Thank you for reading this disgustingly domestic chapter <3  
> 


	3. part of me wants you (but most of me needs you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **I am tired of being sad**   
>  **I feel it when I wake up**   
>  **And it just stays bad**   
>  **But then I see you, always smiling**   
>  **Makes me wanna touch you**   
>  **Keep from dying**   
> 

Working at Starbucks never seemed like a worse idea than when midterms roll around.

Their line is out the door. _Out the door._ At seven PM. Who is so behind on schoolwork that they need to drink coffee at seven PM?

Annabeth. That’s who.

But she’s working and she hasn’t gotten over four hours of consecutive sleep in two weeks and she hasn’t seen Percy in three days and basically the world is ending. Annabeth is going to fail her English class and the world is ending.

It’s the Monday night of midterm week, and Percy has his first meet of the season coming up, so their time together has only marginally improved since the second week of class. Between her ceaseless studying and his morning workouts, afternoon practices, and extra shifts at the diner (she acknowledges that he drew the short straw with this one), they haven’t had a spare moment to spend together.

So not only is she going to fail her midterms, she’ll be miserably alone when she does.

“How bad are they?” Jason asks as he pumps syrup into a disgustingly sweet macchiato.

Annabeth turns from where she restocks the Venti cups and shoots him an incredulous glare. “You’re kidding, right? That’s a joke. Jason, look at the bags under my eyes and ask me how bad my midterms are again. Please.”

After calling out the name of whoever bought that god-awful macchiato, Jason steps closer and examines Annabeth’s face. “You’re right, you _do_ look like shit,” he says dryly.

Jaw dropping in indigence, Annabeth smacks his arm with her roll of plastic cups.

“So, how bad are your midterms?” The shit-eating grin on his face is _audible_ , and Annabeth refuses to look. “Okay, but seriously, when is the essay due?” His voice grows more concerned, which Annabeth doesn’t want to see either.

“Two days,” she grumbles. “But I work and have another midterm Wednesday, so it has to be done that morning.”

“How long have you had the assignment?” he asks.

“It was on the syllabus, but lately I’ve spent every spare moment with Percy. Granted, I don’t have many spare moments, but I wasn’t about to waste them writing.” Annabeth feels herself growing defensive and shifts her attention to the incoming orders.

“So instead of getting a gradual head start, you’d rather be anxious to the point of getting physically sick for over a week?” Jason turns toward her with a whipped cream canister poised like a weapon.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Oh my _god_ , you heathen. Pass me that caramel?” After she does, he sighs and frowns while he does the drizzle.

“I know that look. Don’t you dare mom me, Grace,” she threatens.

“I was thinking more along the lines of tutor, but okay.” He shrugs and hands off his most recent drink to their other coworker to call for it.

Annabeth is taken aback by the offer. “You tutor?”

“Yeah, when being a barista doesn’t pay the bills. But don’t worry; it’s free for friends.”

“Aw, so we’re _friends_ ,” she teases, dragging out the last word and grinning at him.

“I reserve the right to refuse service.” He narrows his eyes at her, smile too bright to carry the threat.

“Okay, mister poli sci major, don’t go all political on me.”

“But seriously, I’m happy to help. I’ve got studying of my own to do tonight, but if you have a draft tomorrow, I’ll gladly go over it with you. Would that make things easier?” he says, stopping his work to look her in the eyes.

“Yeah,” Annabeth sighs and leans back on the counter for a moment, “that’d be incredible, actually. But you should at least let me pay you as thanks for making time during midterms.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t offer my help if I didn’t think I could handle it.” Jason waves her away.

“Yes, you absolutely would. You’re too nice not to.” Though Annabeth appreciates his offer, she doesn’t want him to put himself at risk to help her.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he concedes. “Alright, if you really want to pay me back, you can help me study for my Stats final on Friday.”

Their supervisor pops out of the back, a deep scowl on her face. “Annabeth! Jason! Do you _see_ that line?” 

The two of them jump back to work with varied apologies and half-assed promises not to slack off again, snickering as soon as their supervisor is out of sight.

The rest of Annabeth’s shift passes rather quickly, hurried by the constant rush of people and Jason’s terrible jokes in between. She clocks out an hour later, deciding against staying to study in the horrifically crowded Starbucks.

She collapses on the couch of the empty apartment, pulling her laptop off of the coffee table to start on her essay. Jason is going to help her tomorrow; she can do this. All she has to do is get her thoughts on the page and close to the word count.

Annabeth opens Word and formats the essay in MLA, grinning at the extra words the heading gives her. She can do this.

Her eyes flit over the empty document. Doubled-spaced. Times New Roman. Size 12 font. Blank white screen.

She can’t do this.

It’s half-past nine and Percy won’t be home for a few hours and Annabeth is alone in this goddamn apartment with nothing but a blank page and her own imminent failure to keep her company.

She swallows down the panic swelling in her throat and shakes her head to clear it. There’s no use in freaking out and doing nothing. The only way out is to move forward; she has to freak out and _do things_.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and calls Piper, her heart sinking with each additional ring. Piper is in the same English class. Piper is good at English; she can help Annabeth while Jason is busy.

The silence on the other line hangs heavily in Annabeth’s ears and sits similarly on her chest.

But Annabeth isn’t willing to roll over and give up so easily. She will drag herself through this damn essay if it kills her.

Her textbook balances awkwardly between her thigh and the couch cushion on her left, but the setup will have to do for now. Relocating to a proper desk in her room would provide too many opportunities for distraction. Comfort isn’t worth the risk of losing focus.

Annabeth has had learning disorders for as long as she’s been learning. Surely by college she should know better than to cram in a reading without finding an audiobook or trying to color-coordinate the pages first. She _should_. She _does_. She just hasn’t actually done any of those things, and now it’s too late to try.

Everything rearranges on the page before she can catch it. It’s like drowning, except she knows exactly which way is up and which way is down. The problem is that she can’t swim there regardless.

She has her game plan. She has her to-do list, and it’s _not enough_. She’s just sitting here on the couch, trapped under the weight of it all.

It’s pathetic.

Fifty words. She has fifty words out of the _thousand_ she needs, and every single one of them is garbage.

The tears start without her consent, welling up and spilling over when she closes her eyes in a futile attempt to prevent them. Then Annabeth is pathetically crying over her unfinished paper, the few words she has rearranging into gibberish before her eyes. The sight makes her cry harder; her work is so bad that even _she_ can't read it. 

That’s how Percy finds her: pathetic and alone on the couch. She wasn’t expecting him to be here so much earlier than usual, especially on a Monday night.

She turns her head when she hears the door shut, trying to hide her face behind the couch so he doesn’t see her tears.

“Annabeth…” he says softly, crossing the floor of their apartment in a few strides to reach her. Gentle hands pull the book and laptop from her lap, setting them carefully on the table beside her. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Percy’s eyes dart from her tear-stained cheeks and back to the textbook, and he seemingly makes the connection.

“English,” Annabeth sniffles, wanting nothing more than to disappear from view and the planet as a whole.

He wastes no time asking questions; he just nudges her legs out of the way and sits beside her, pulling her in for a hug. “It’s going to be okay, Annabeth.” His arms encircle her, warm and comforting. Annabeth breathes a shaky exhale into his chest.

“No, I’m not,” she chokes out. “No, I’m _not_. I have 950 more words to write by morning, Piper isn’t picking up, and if I don’t have an actual draft tomorrow, Jason isn’t going to be able to help me at all. Everything is going to _shit_ and I’m so fucking _alone!_ ” The words gather speed the more she speaks, and soon they devolve into sharp inhales and stifled sobs on the exhale.

Percy just wraps his arms tighter around her and rubs her back. “You’re not alone. I’m off early tonight. I’m here for you, okay? We’re going to get through this.”

“You shouldn’t have to! You shouldn’t have to worry about me on your _one_ night off all week! I should be able to get this done without having to be babied,” she insists, clenching her fists in her lap.

“Annabeth, look at me.” When she shakes her head, Percy pulls back and guides her face to make eye contact. “I’m going to help you because I want to, not because I have to. And nobody is babying you. I’m your friend, and I’m going to support you.”

Annabeth focuses on her lap, feeling pathetic from the sympathy in his eyes. She doesn’t want sympathy, she wants to be able to do her essay without feeling like this.

“I can’t afford to fail this essay, Percy. I could fail the class. I could lose my scholarship. I’m not even getting anywhere anyway. I’m just shuffling from Gen Ed to Gen Ed, and none of my classes have anything to do with my major. I’m just stuck here, I’m fucking stuck here and I’m so _stupid. Why_ do I have to take these classes?! I’m dyslexic! I can’t do this.”

“You are _not_ stupid,” Percy says firmly, worry etched into the lines of his face.

“But what if I am?! What if I’m just a college burnout who couldn’t get her shit together? What if I _do_ fail and lose everything? My scholarship, my spot at this school. I _can’t_ go back to California, Percy, I really can’t.” At that last sentence, a new wave of sobs forces its way out of Annabeth’s throat. She collapses forward and buries her face in her hands, determined not to meet his eyes and terrified of what she’d find there if she did.

Instead of forcing her to meet his eyes, Percy slides her forward until she’s nearly in his lap. Annabeth doesn’t protest the movement, but she doesn’t remove her hands from her face either.

He pulls her against him again, his voice rumbling against her temple as he speaks. “Shh, hey, you always have a home with my mom and I. I’m not letting you go back there. We’d make sure you were alright.”

“You’re not arguing with me about failing,” she says flatly.

“Because you’re not going to,” he exhales, and his breath is warm against her hair. “But I want you to know that you’ll be okay even if you do. I’m with you no matter what happens.”

Annabeth cries even harder at that, uncovering her face to fling her arms around his neck. Her tears soak into the soft fabric of his shirt, and she’s pretty sure she’s getting snot on it too, but Percy just keeps her steady against him all the while.

Unsure of how long they stay like that, Annabeth realizes her breathing has slowed to match his, deep and calm. She focuses on that, on the synced rhythm of their lungs and the steady beating on his heart again her ear.

Gradually, she comes down for the ledge. Now she feels dumb for crying, and she feels dumb for feeling dumb about crying. This is Percy she’s talking about; he’s seen her cry before. Annabeth breathes in his scent and gets calmer.

When a few minutes have passed without tears, Percy sits back to level with her. “Would getting out of the apartment help?”

She ducks her head and nods. “I can’t focus here right now.” Carefully, she brings her head back up to meet his eyes. “It’s late though.”

“The library is open ‘til 3 AM. It’s worth going,” he says, his hand still tracing circles on her back. “And don’t give me that look. I don’t care how busy you think I am, I’m coming with you. You ready to go?”

Annabeth breaks away to stare pointedly at her Harry Potter pajama pants.

“Okay, so no. Go put on something warm and we can head out. That work?”

“Yeah, that works,” she says. Percy pats her back as she gets up and trudges to her room.

God, is _this_ what she looks like? No wonder Percy looks so worried. Annabeth looks in her mirror and frowns at her general state of disarray; the haphazard bun on top of her head; her tear-stained and splotchy cheeks; the stains on her sleeves that look an awful lot like a combination of snot and tears.

Whatever. Her appearance is about the last thing on her list of priorities. She shuffles around her room for approximately thirty seconds before finding a relatively clean sweatshirt and leggings to throw on.

Percy is waiting for her on the couch. As soon as she’s close enough, he throws a jacket at her.

“Figured you weren’t going to dress warm enough. I packed up your backpack too.” He gestures to the Jansport on his shoulder and backs up to the door.

That’s when Annabeth snaps out of her pity party, at least a little. “I can carry my own bag, Percy.” Anticipating his refusal, she attempts to pull it off of him, but he shrugs and lets her take it.

“Okay, I just wanted to hold it because I put snacks in it.” He grins at her as she hoists it onto her own shoulders.

Annabeth’s laugh echoes around the living room before she catches it and bites back her smile. He’s definitely trying to make her laugh to distract her, but it’s working.

That’s how they walk to the subway stop: Percy makes terrible jokes and Annabeth only half-tries to suppress her laughter at them. She burrows into the jacket he grabbed for her. The air is harsh against her watery eyes.

The walk to the campus library passes by in a similar fashion. Percy distracts her with all sorts of strange conversation topics: his new biology unit, the weird guy from work who keeps talking about crystals, the evidently infuriating way Matt Sloan says certain words. Annabeth has almost forgotten her stress by the time they reach the library. Almost.

“Okay, so,” he says as he slides into a chair across from her, “game plan?”

“The only _game plan_ is to finish the damn thing,” Annabeth grumbles.

“That’s the objective, not a game plan.”

“Alright mister SAT words,” Annabeth huffs and falls back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s the game plan then?”

“Just getting words on the page. You and I will get you to passing, and you and Jason will get to acing.” He leans forward onto the table, his eyes optimistic even in the face of all her doubt. “You’ve got fifty words, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

Percy shakes his head, a smile on his face that’s far too genuine for Annabeth to handle in her current state. “No, that’s better than starting from scratch. That’s, what? An introductory sentence?”

She swallows down the lump in her throat and nods.

“Perfect. I’m glad you have one, because I’m shit at them. Do you know your thesis?”

She nods again.

“Write it down in the worst way possible. Just the dumbest thing you’ve ever written. My thesis for my first draft of that Macbeth essay senior year was ‘Lady Macbeth is a badass bitch and Shakespeare did her so dirty.’” At the sound of Annabeth’s laugh, Percy’s shoulders relax. Annabeth didn’t even realize that they were tense; he’s more anxious than he’s letting on.

Still, some of Annabeth’s stress fades considerably better as she types. She’s been writing dumb things all night—doing so intentionally is something she can do.

“Let me hear it.”

“Force me to spend enough time with you and at some point I’ll probably fall in love with you: the novel.”

“Golden. Absolutely golden.” He rests his chin in his palm. “Now back up and put down the information you need to build up from introductory sentence to the thesis. Don’t focus on transitions, let it be choppy and bad. You can fix the rest tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, Annabeth types, the sound of her fingers hitting the keys echoing around her head and reminding her how many words she still has left. She gets about two sentences in before keyboard smashing in frustration and putting her face in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” Percy leans further onto the table, his voice gentle.

“I don’t know what I need to explain,” she groans.

“Okay, that’s fine. Explain it to me. Try to make me understand it.”

Inhaling deeply, Annabeth looks down at her book and reads off the introduction.

Percy puts his hand over what she’s reading and slides the book to his side of the table. “No,” he gestures between them, “explain it to me.”

“Give me the book back, Percy.” Annabeth isn’t proud of the way she whines at him, but she’s about had it with his constant encouragement.

He marks her page and slides the book in his lap. “What book?”

“I don’t know what you expect from me.” She isn’t sure why he’s so insistent that she can do this when she’s already proven that she can’t.

“You have your introduction, and you have your thesis. Get me from point A to point B.”

Annabeth pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs before scanning her doc and looking back at Percy. She shies away from the kindness in his features as she talks, especially the grin that spreads across his face when she finds her groove.

There’s so much Sally Jackson in him right now; she can see it in the softness in his eyes, hear it in the kindness of his voice. Annabeth is sure he's using the same study tactics his mom used on him as a kid; she can easily picture a younger Percy in her place. He and Sally share the same quiet determination to see those they love succeed, even when it’s at the expense of their own sleep schedule or well-being.

As guilty as Annabeth feels for him coming with her, she’s also touched by it. His schedule is nothing but cruel to him, and it would make perfect sense for him to have come home and go straight to sleep after helping her calm down. But that isn’t Percy. Percy came all the way back to campus with her to sit in the library—one of his least favorite places—just to make sure she could focus on the assignment she pushed off.

He gets her off the ground with the essay, and it isn’t too long before they’ve consolidated her talking points into a choppy, but sensible introduction. With a clear, attainable goal in mind, Annabeth finds her fingers flying over the keys. Percy is still there to help her when she hits a roadblock, but his assistance becomes less and less frequent as Annabeth finds her rhythm and zeroes in on the screen in front of her. Her textbook returns to her side somewhere along the way, but she pays it no attention unless she’s searching for quotes.

What she’s writing is absolute garbage, and she’ll be bright red while Jason reads over this tomorrow, but right now she’s getting the words on the page and that’s all that matters. There will be nothing to tear apart tomorrow if she doesn’t type like crazy tonight.

The barrier between her and her work has blown away in her frenzy to write. Annabeth is doing exactly what she needs to be doing, and she focuses on that as she types away. She is not alone, she is not going to fail, and she is _not_ stupid.

50 words becomes 200 words becomes 500 words becomes 893 words. _893 words._ Add in a works cited page, more quotes for padding, and editing from Jason, and Annabeth will be ready to kick this essay’s ass.

Riding an academic high, Annabeth saves her draft and slams her laptop closed in triumph, expecting to see Percy’s beaming face in response.

Instead she’s met with the sight of him passed out cold in front of her. His head rests on his crossed arms; his breathing is slow and steady and there’s _definitely_ a bit of drool on his sleeve. The slight twitch of his fingers tells Annabeth he’s in pretty deep. Her computer display reads 1:28 AM.

A simultaneous rush of guilt and gratitude courses through Annabeth’s chest. Percy’s workload is running him into the ground, and what does he do on his first early night? He comes to the library and helps her write an essay.

But he did it for _her_. Percy has always gone above and beyond for her in a way that’s unique to their relationship, and Annabeth doesn’t know what that means. Or rather, she thinks she’s starting to.

Looking at him now, all smushed cheek and puffy breath, Annabeth has an idea that scares her.

But it also entices her.

It makes sense of every confusing moment from the past few months (years, if she’s being honest, but Annabeth isn’t ready to get into _that_ ). All the stolen glances and small touches she hasn’t been able to get out of her head, hasn’t felt in control of.

She can’t control the things she denies. Denial only delays the inevitable.

That’s all she’s been doing: delaying the inevitable. The more she thinks about it, the more foolish she feels. _Of course_ it’s Percy. Every road leads to Percy.

But maybe they shouldn’t, or maybe she should’ve chosen a more winding one. He’s her best friend, her roommate, definitely _not_ someone she should feel this way for. At least not right now. Not _yet_.

Before any of those scary thoughts can take over, Annabeth pushes Percy’s hair back from where it’s fallen to cover his eyes. She whispers his name and watches them flutter open—always so shockingly green—and look up at her with sleepy contentment.

“How’s the essay going?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s done.” She lets herself grin. “Jason is going to tear it apart, but it’s done.”

Percy shoots up from the table and flashes her a beaming smile. He’s gushing about how proud he is of her and how he never doubted her for a second and Annabeth knows she is absolutely and irrevocably done for.

She ducks her head and stuffs her supplies into her bag, chuckling at the crunch of snacks in the front pocket as she squishes it to fit her laptop.

“Damn, I didn’t eat _any_ of those?” Percy yawns and sighs as he stretches in his seat. His shirt rides up, exposing a strip of skin just above the waistline of his pants, and Annabeth is suddenly _very_ focused on reorganizing her bag for the walk home. “Guess I’ll just leave ‘em there for next time,” he shrugs.

“Maybe no next time?” Annabeth winces and looks up at his confused frown. “Or at least skip the late-night mental breakdown part?”

“Okay, next time we skip straight to snacks,” Percy says, standing and stretching again as Annabeth pulls on her jacket and fixes her hood.

A bitter October wind nips at their skin as they make their way back to the subway station. Annabeth tugs her jacket tighter around her and sighs, wishing she’d worn something more suited for the city wind.

Percy glances at Annabeth huddled in on herself and chuckles before pulling her into his side and tucking her under his arm. She sighs into his warmth and considers wrapping her own arm around his waist, but hesitates. The embrace feels too intimate for two friends walking back from the library.

How much would he notice before pulling back? Or, more importantly, would he care enough to pull back?

A bullet of panic shoots through Annabeth’s chest and speeds her breathing because now she’s over-analyzing. This is nothing new, she tells herself. The city is growing cold and he’s tired; he probably just has his arm around her so he doesn’t fall over from exhaustion right now. That’s all this is.

Satisfied with her conclusion, Annabeth slips her arm around his waist. The small smile he gives her in response drives all the air out of her lungs.

But here, under the familiar lights of a familiar city, she’s somehow seeing him through a foreign lens.

Was he always this attractive? Were his lips always this nice? He looks stunning in the ever-changing city lights; they always fall so nicely over the highlights of his face. It’s unfair—no person should have those cheekbones _and_ be such a genuinely kind person. Honestly? Shame on him. Shame on him and his perfect cheekbones for not saving some good qualities for the rest of the population. He’s downright _pretty_. How dare he be so inconsiderate?

Annabeth finds herself lost in these thoughts until they’re separating to swipe their subway cards and make their way to the platform. The subway provides temporary relief from the cold as well as places to sit and rest, so there’s no reason for Percy to hold on to her anymore. Annabeth fights off ridiculous thoughts of wishing they’d skipped the subway and walked the whole way home.

Percy rests his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as they sit and wait. Annabeth can tell he’s fighting off sleep so she doesn’t feel guilty for dragging him out so late, but she’s well past that particular brand of guilt. She’s trying not to focus on the _other_ reason either, but she’s doing a terrible job of it.

It’s just hard to focus when he’s sitting there looking so _cute_. It’s infuriating, the way his cheeks scrunch up in his hands and give him those little crinkles around his eyes. His lips are pushed into an almost-pout that is disgustingly adorable and tantalizing. He fights and loses the battle to keep his eyes open for about two minutes until their train pulls up.

Luckily, they score an empty car, so they settle into two empty seats near the doors. The ride is silent except for the sound of the train racing along the tracks, and for the first time Annabeth can remember, she has no idea what to say to Percy.

Looking over, she finds she doesn’t have to say anything. He nods off onto her shoulder before she can get too caught up in her concerns. The rhythm of his breathing is slow, and she dares to glance over at their reflection in the subway window.

Half of his face smushes against her shoulder, while the other side falls up toward the light. It’s a strange dissymmetry; a seemingly impossible balance between the cute boy she’s grown up with and the beautiful one he’s grown into.

Perhaps Percy would disagree with her word choice, but he _is_ pretty. And cute. Pretty cute. Pretty-cute. She’ll settle for combining the two to distract herself from how unfair it is that he can be both at the same time.

Annabeth is far from tired, but she lays her head on top of his despite this. Anything to resist the temptation to stare. And if that means pretending to be tired despite her racing heart, that’s what she’ll do.

His breath comes out in little puffs now. A strand of his hair tickles her nose, and he’s probably drooling on her shoulder, but she refuses to move and wake him up. He’s the most peaceful she’s seen him in weeks.

Eventually she does have to. As the sign in front of them lights up with the name of their stop, Annabeth reaches over and rubs his back until his eyes open.

“C’mon, Perce. Almost home.”

“Shit,” he sits up, wiping his mouth and blinking rapidly, “sorry about that.”

Annabeth bites back an assurance that he’s more than welcome to do that again and shrugs casually as they leave the subway. “I’m a master at removing drool stains by now. And if not, it’s an excuse to go to your mom’s. God knows she’s had years of practice.”

“That was cold,” he frowns, bumping his shoulder into hers as they step out onto the sidewalk.

“No,” Annabeth shivers as the wind hits her, “ _this_ is cold.”

Percy just rolls her eyes and makes some comment about her being a southern girl that she only half-hears because his arm is around her again. Her own slips around his waist almost instinctively this time, and she hardly has time to dissect what that means before their banter fades to comfortable silence.

Or rather, it _should_ be comfortable. Annabeth’s mind races with far too many thoughts for the silence to be anything but deafening despite the slight smile resting on Percy’s lips.

_Stop looking at his lips._

Annabeth tries to keep her head clear and focus on simpler feelings tonight, namely gratitude. She’s still full of gratitude as well, and it isn’t nearly as scary to think about.

They trudge through the threshold of their apartment and continue to hold onto each other until they reach the hallway where their respective bedrooms are.

Percy uses the arm around her shoulder to pull her into a tight hug. His warmth and smell surround her as they did earlier, and Annabeth just feels so _safe_. He pulled her out of what could’ve been a disastrous night, and he did it all with unwavering confidence and a smile.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she rocks up onto her toes and quickly kisses him on the cheek.

Dear god, she can’t watch him. She’s fucked it all up; she knows she has.

“Everything alright?” When she meets his eyes, Percy just gives her a soft smile followed by a quizzical look. “You’re a little quiet.”

“Yeah, just a little braindead,” Annabeth chuckles and tries to cover the way her hands shake. “Thanks for coming with me, Percy. I’d definitely still be crying on the couch without you.”

“Nah, you’d have figured it out.”

“No, I’m serious.” Annabeth doesn’t know how to articulate what she means (and no clue what she means in the first place), so she huffs and pauses. “I have no idea where I’d be without you.”

Percy pulls her into another hug, his eyes softening. He must notice her difficulty with her words, because he doesn’t deflect the compliment like he usually does. Annabeth squeezes around his middle and he presses his lips into her hair—not a kiss, but close enough to one to make her heart do an entire gymnastics routine in her chest.

“See you in the morning?” Annabeth asks, cringing at the audible hope in her voice.

All at once, Percy deflates. The air leaves his lungs and his shoulders sag like she’s put some impossible weight on them. She didn’t notice the difference in his posture until it changed in front of her, but this is much closer to the version of Percy she sees around. Still pretty-cute, but now looking like he needs more hours than he’s given to get everything he needs. She wonders what he gave up to help her tonight.

“No, early workout tomorrow.” His regret seeps into his voice and Annabeth wants nothing more than to share the weight of this burden with him.

“Hey, it’s no problem, I was just going to ask if you wanted me to grab you a coffee or not. No biggie.”

He either hears the disappointment in her voice or senses it somewhere else, because he sighs and ducks his head to ruffle his hair. “Look, I know I’m not here often, but _please_ promise me you’ll come to me before an assignment gets this bad. Even if I can’t help like tonight, I don’t want to come home to you upset like this. You’re not alone, even if I’m not home. I don’t care how busy I am, I want you to know that you can always talk to me about things. I’m always here for you.” He steps forward for one last hug before backing up to his door.

Annabeth nods and backs up to her own. “Of course. I’m here for you too.” Percy beams and inhales to speak again, but Annabeth cuts him off. “Now get some sleep, ya big sap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **You're my partner in crime**  
>  **You're the feeling I get when I'm feeling fine**  
>  **Part of me wants you, but most of me needs you**  
>  **So I won't fall unless you ask me to**  
> 
> 
> Listen I have no excuses for how long this chapter took, but I want to thank everyone for being so patient while I struggled with this, school, and my other fics. This fic is my baby and I want to make sure everything is done right, so sometimes that means waiting almost two months instead of two weeks while I sort myself out. Despite all of that, I think this might be my favorite chapter so far! It was a blast to write, and it's so disgustingly soft. I will make no promises on when the next chapter will be up, but finals are over soon and I have a month before I have any big engagements, so we'll see. No promises. But we'll see.  
> Song: Ask Me To (Steamroller) // Phoebe Bridgers 


	4. i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **I'm walking fast through the traffic lights**  
>  **Busy streets and busy lives**  
>  **And all we know, is touch and go**  
> 

Annabeth realizing she likes Percy changes her perspective on several things.

For instance, she’s now overtly aware of how often he’s shirtless around the apartment, and it’s way more frequent than she previously thought. 

Her control is tested one Saturday—it always seems to happen on Saturdays—when she oversleeps and wakes up to him knocking on her door. Her response is a muffled groan, one he’s heard enough to know it means she’s just on the less appealing side of awake, and he opens the door. The smell of pancakes floods her room, swept in by Percy and the persistent draft that the cooler months bring to the apartment. 

But before she can register any of that, the first thing her groggy morning mind catches is that Percy is very much shirtless and very much in her tiny bedroom. His usual lazy, rumpled morning look is juxtaposed with a beaming smile, one that she assumes is associated with the mouthwatering smell growing stronger with each passing second. 

He respectfully ducks out when Annabeth bites out a comment about him needing a snooze button, leaving her to flop back down into bed and resist the urge to punch her pillow. 

Still, that isn’t nearly as bad as the time he comes out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. That is _torture_. 

She’s so certain he’s done this before, that she’s just overreacting and hypersensitive to the changes that living together has brought. But she’s seen him in less at swim meets, and those were well before they lived together. 

So when he comes out of the hallway asking if she knows where his swim hoodie is, it takes everything in her to keep her eyes fixed firmly on the computer screen in front of her and to point in its general direction. 

Apparently the universe isn’t going to let her get away that easily. Percy comes back into view after a few seconds, complaining and accusing her of sending him on a wild goose chase. (She refuses to acknowledge how he emphasizes _chase_. She can’t deal with his puns right now.) 

“You probably just stole it again.” He rolls his eyes at her far too fondly. 

“What?” she splutters, because that’s a thing that _girlfriends_ do and certainly not something she’s ever—

“I’m used to it,” he laughs, waving her off. “But I need it for team pictures today… Annabeth?” She sees him waving a hand at her in her peripheral. “Earth to Annabeth?” 

“When was the last time you had it?” she asks. Just looking at the computer screen. Annabeth is just doing her homework and looking at her computer and not her nearly naked best friend. 

“About a month ago? I’m pretty sure it was the last time we went to the park.”

Shit. She definitely stole the hoodie on the walk home. “Oh, okay. I’ll check my room,” she says, continuing to type. 

“Annabeth?” 

“Yes?” 

“I have to be there in an hour.”

Annabeth jolts up from her spot on the couch. Percy’s concern vaguely registers in her rush to escape the room, but the fact that he’s in her way certainly does. The narrow hallway forces her to pass him. In what should be the most casual of touches, Percy puts his hand on her back as he turns to look at her worriedly. 

Only then does she stop and look at him, her gaze dragging from his hand to his arm, then his shoulders, the droplets of water from his shower still clinging to his collarbone and falling from his hair, and lastly his eyes, which narrow in confusion. 

With that, she disappears behind her door. 

 _Why_ did she have to steal his _stupid_ hoodies? Why do things have to be so convoluted? 

Because they’re Percy and Annabeth, and things have always been precisely as simple and complicated as that statement alone. 

 _A month ago._ That was before midterms, before she was aware of her feelings for Percy, and she’s been stealing his hoodies since well before then. He said it himself; he’s used to it. 

Stealing hoodies is one thing—maybe even something she can accept—but gawking at him for some exposed skin in the comfort of his own apartment? That’s truly ridiculous. She couldn’t even _look_ at him, and when she had to, she scurried away like she was afraid. For someone who is terrified that having feelings for Percy is going to ruin their friendship, Annabeth is doing an incredible job of letting her feelings for Percy ruin their friendship. 

She finds his hoodie in her closet (not even on her floor—in her _closet_ ) hanging next to her other, more neglected sweatshirts. A sigh tumbles past her lips, her chest deflating with the breath. 

Now she understands why people have been so skeptical of them moving in together, because dammit she’s felt this way for a while and they were right. Admitting she was wrong leaves a bitter taste in Annabeth’s mouth, but it’s one she deserves for thinking she could handle this. She wishes she would stop overestimating herself. 

She’s certain this wouldn’t have happened if they’d lived in the dorms instead. It isn’t even like she _planned_ on getting an apartment together; it had been an offhand comment, a throwaway suggestion, something she was sure they would laugh off together. 

Instead he had turned to her, green eyes always looking at her so earnestly, and said yes. Just like that. Not like it was nothing, but like he knew what it meant and was ready to follow her into it. He’s always been so trusting, so open and kind. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be. 

A soft knock rattles her door. “Any luck?” Percy calls. 

Annabeth forces her thoughts away and snatches the hoodie from its hanger, marching toward the door and steeling herself. 

“Here.” She thrusts it into his hands. 

“Thanks?” He arches an eyebrow at her and catches her hand as she tries to back into her room. He’s still only wearing the towel. “Where was it?” 

“Closet,” she mumbles, averting her eyes from his body. 

“Hey,” his voice takes on a serious tone, “you can have it back as soon as practice is over.” He shifts, trying to catch her eye. “Did I do something?” 

“No,” she clears her throat and looks somewhere above his ear. “No,” she says more clearly. “It’s fine, really.” 

“This isn’t a midterms situation?” 

“ _No_.” 

“Then why aren’t you looking at me?” 

Annabeth’s cheeks burn; she twists her hand out of his grip. 

“Annabeth?” Percy’s voice grows concerned. He steps forward and Annabeth needs to stop him now now now—

“I’m on my period,” she blurts, because it’s about the least sexy thing she can say and dear god she hopes this is just awkward enough without being _too_ awkward but her ears are already burning. 

“Oh,” Percy steps back and shrugs. “Okay, you need anything while I’m out?” 

“Huh?” 

“Supplies, snacks, any of that stuff? Practice isn’t too long today, I can grab something on the way home.” 

“No, I’m good.” Her period doesn’t come for another week, and though he doesn’t need to know that, she’d feel terrible if he went out of his way for something she lied about. 

“Well let me know if that changes, I gotta get moving,” he says, tossing the hoodie over his shoulder and backing into his room. 

Annabeth backs up to her own and closes the door behind her, leaning against it and sighing. This is getting ridiculous—no, this is _well past_ ridiculous. Piper was right; she’s so fucked.

* * *

 “That poor boy went and got you Ben and Jerry’s and everything?! You’re hopeless. You’re both so incredibly hopeless.” 

“I’m coming to you in confidence and you’re mocking me? That’s a new low, McLean.”

“For the record, I called this on day one.” 

Annabeth sighs and pauses to take a sip of her Thai tea; Piper falls back into her seat and takes another heaping bite of her vegetarian red curry. Today is one of the rare days where Annabeth and Piper both have the money, time, and emotional demand to eat out together, so Annabeth takes the opportunity to cross another restaurant off her list with Piper. That means spending her remaining $13 from her last paycheck on Thai food down the street from Sally’s apartment. 

“Seriously,” Piper says with her mouth full, “I knew it from the first night.” 

“You were plastered the first night,” Annabeth says, narrowing her eyes. 

“You do realize that doesn’t help your case, right? The fact that I was plastered and I _still_ knew before you.” 

“Whatever.” Annabeth turns her attention to her food instead of Piper’s knowing smirk. “So I’m late to the party, apparently.” 

“Not sure I’d call this a _party_ so much as a pitiful romantic and sexual awakening, but we can call it that if you want.”

“You really know how to boost a girl’s confidence.”

“Sorry,” Piper frowns, “about Percy. What’s the issue?” 

“The issue?” Annabeth doesn’t know where to start. “If the stakes were high when we were just best friends, they’re way worse with our names on a lease together. So much could go wrong here. Not only could I lose my best friend, but I could have to live with him for an entire year after. What if he moves on? What if I’m sex-iled while he has someone new over? What if I have to make breakfast for them when they stay over?”

“Number one,” Piper smiles, “you would _never_ be the one making breakfast.” After Annabeth’s jaw drops indignantly, Piper continues in a more serious tone. “Number two, do you really think Percy would do any of these things if it didn’t work out between the two of you?” 

Annabeth feels herself deflate, a little bit of the panic leaving her chest. “No, he wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t lose him! Or that things won’t change between us. The dynamic we have is so good, I couldn’t imagine anything important enough to change that, even my own feelings. _Especially_ my feelings. I don’t want them.” 

The smile on Piper’s face grows more sympathetic with every word Annabeth says. Part of Annabeth kind of wants to kick her under the table. “You don’t want them?”

“Yeah, I just said that.” 

“You don’t want feelings? Or you don’t want the risk associated with them?” 

“I literally want neither of those things.” 

Piper rolls her eyes. “Just test the waters. You’ll never get over him if you don’t even entertain the notion of being together. There’s always going to be a part of your brain asking ‘what if?’ But if you lean into this and see how it goes, it could end so well for you. He could feel the same way. I’m willing to bet he already does.”

Annabeth shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You’ll never know without the risk.” 

“I’m not much of a risk taker.” 

Piper’s response is a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. 

“ _Fine_. An _emotional_ risk taker. I’m emotionally stunted, happy?”

“Not until you make a move.” 

“You do realize that would be like, a monumental shift in the dynamic of our relationship, right? We’ve been friends for over seven years, not making eyes at each other across Starbucks for a few months.”

“No, you’ve been doing that, too.” Piper raises a hand to block Annabeth’s incoming indignant swat. “Okay, someone doesn’t like to hear the truth. I’m only teasing you because this whole thing is ridiculous. You two clearly have weirdly repressed feelings for each other. What does denying them do for you?” 

“Keeping him in my life, Piper. Denying them keeps Percy in my life. I can’t say the same for acting on them, so I can’t act on them until I _know_ that won’t happen. I can’t lose him. That’s not a risk I can take.” Desperation seeps into her voice, because how can Piper not understand the stakes? Losing Percy would ruin Annabeth. They’ve been friends for so long that she can hardly picture her life without him. Or rather, she remembers _exactly_ what life without Percy was like, and she never wants to go back to it. Running away from home, having no friends, being rejected by her family—Annabeth can’t do it again. It was hard enough the first time. Now that she knows how her life is with Percy in it, it’s impossible for her to go back to before. 

The significance seems to carry across to Piper, or she’s at least smart enough to sense when it’s time to stop pushing. She looks down at her food and twirls it around with her chopsticks, nodding slowly as she thinks a response. 

“Okay, I understand,” Piper sighs, and Annabeth wants to jump on her because _no, she does not understand,_ but Piper is trying and Annabeth can’t punish her for something as small as word choice. “So how do we get you there?” 

“Huh?” 

“How do we get you to the point where you’re comfortable making that leap with him? What needs to happen to confirm that he has feelings for you?” Piper asks, setting down her chopsticks and resting her chin in her palm. 

“I—” Annabeth swallows and closes her eyes to think. “I’d need to hear it from him. Anything else is still up to interpretation, and that means there’s always a chance I’m wrong. I don’t want to be archaic and say the guy has to make the first move, but it’s hard to think that anything else would give me that security.” 

“How is he going to tell you how he feels if you’ve closed yourself off from giving him any signs?” Before Annabeth can argue, Piper raises a defiant eyebrow and leans in further. “Look, you can show someone you’re interested in a way that doesn’t jeopardize the friendship, and if you get a negative reaction, you know it’s time to back off. It doesn’t have to be full send all the time. You can take things at your own pace.” 

“That was… oddly profound for someone who needed me to get Jason’s number for her.”

“And look where we are now.” Piper spreads her arms out, a giddy smile following. 

“It’s different,” Annabeth mumbles.

“Well, yeah. Jason and I are different people, and we don’t have the same history as you and Percy, but it’s the same concept. We met when school started and just got together a month ago. We’ve talked about it, and either of us could’ve made a move on the first day and gotten the same result. But we didn’t. We waited until we were comfortable and sure about each other, and then made our moves.”

“You were just too chickenshit to ask him.” 

“And _how_ is that different from what we’ve spent the last hour talking about?” 

“How are things with Jason, anyway?” Annabeth deflects. “Our schedules have been insane, catch me up.”

Piper entertains Annabeth’s clunky change of subject, but not without a thoroughly exasperated and endeared eye roll. “Things are great. Really great. He’s such a gentleman. Like, I don’t think I’ve touched the handle of a door in his presence since we met. It’s ridiculous.” Her smile is so wide that it must hurt her cheeks, but there’s something in her tone that makes Annabeth hesitate.

“Is there a _but_ coming? I feel like there’s a _but_ coming.”

The corner of Piper’s mouth twitches, giving her away. The smile fissures from that crack and slumps into something resembling a frown. “Not a _but_ , but maybe an _and?_ ” she offers, her voice raising in question like she doesn’t know the answer. “Everything is incredible, and I’m nervous. Way more nervous than I was at the beginning. Because now that things are good and I _know_ they’re good, I’m—” she cuts off to take a deep breath. “I’m really nervous about fucking this up. It’s _so_ good, Annabeth. But there’s a lot that I—I’ve got baggage that… I just don’t want to scare him off.” 

“Is this about your dad?” Annabeth asks.

“Of course you know,” Piper chuckles harshly. “When did you put it together?” 

“The cafe after our first day in English.”

A wince escapes Piper. “That obvious?” 

“Last name McLean. Moved from LA. Didn’t take much more than that.” 

“Well, here’s to hoping Jason hasn’t made that connection.”

“Why?”

“Fame by association hasn’t exactly done wonders for my social life,” Piper grimaces. “High school in LA with this last name was actual hell.” She tugs on the ends of her hair like she’s trying to make it longer. “It got ugly. I rejected parts of myself, I was a klepto, I avoided making friends, I didn’t date.” Her eyes snap up to Annabeth’s with what Annabeth thinks is shame. “Can you believe that? Tristan McLean’s daughter has never had a real boyfriend? But of course, Hollywood glamour and all that. Absolutely peachy experience for a teenage girl.” 

Annabeth frowns. “You’re more than Tristan McLean’s daughter. It’s okay to not have dated before college. I didn’t! Or at least, nothing that lasted more than a month or two. Nothing real.” 

“Did you steal a BMW for your dad’s attention?”

Annabeth shrugs. “I ran away when I was seven. And eight. And nine.” She pauses and looks up. “I could keep going, but I feel like I don’t have to. Juvenile delinquency was a pastime of mine. Yours doesn’t particularly shock me, either.” 

That might not have been the right thing to say. Annabeth doesn’t know how to say that she isn’t surprised to hear Piper stole without sounding like a complete ass.

“Weird to think that if I’d run far enough, we could’ve met before all this. Two troubled kids against our parents.” 

 _That_ was the right thing to say. Piper smiles a grateful smile and takes Annabeth’s hand from across the table. “We would’ve fought nonstop.”

“Are you forgetting our hour long argument about my feelings, McLean? Because I can sum it up for you.” 

“Point taken.” 

“And Piper?”

“Yeah?”

“About Jason… he might understand more than you think. I—If you don’t know, please don’t Google it or anything, but I have a feeling that the conversation isn’t going to go as poorly as you think it is. Or at all, for that matter.” _At least Piper’s dad is famous for something_ good _,_ Annabeth thinks. 

Realization dawns on Piper’s face. Annabeth thinks she sees her friend’s lips trace the shape of Jason’s last name, and she knows she’s made the connection. 

“Thanks, Annabeth.” 

“You just spent the last hour therapizing _me_ , don’t thank me.” 

Piper just rolls her eyes and squeezes Annabeth’s hands again in silent thanks. 

As they pay their checks and make their way back to the apartment, Annabeth can’t help but think about how easy it was to open up to Piper, and how much that strengthens Annabeth’s desire for Percy to get close to her friends. Jason and Piper are people Annabeth hopes to keep around for a long time; the only thing missing is a strong relationship with her best friend. 

Her mind wanders to Grover and how much she’s missed him since he came down for Percy’s first meet. They’re supposed to catch up after Percy’s next away meet, but Annabeth’s request for a day off got denied at the last minute, and none of her coworkers can pick up the shift. 

This time last year, Annabeth had two friends: Percy and Grover. Now, after leaving behind everyone she’s known for the past four years of high school, she’s gone from two friends to four. A clean 100% increase. 

And as Annabeth watches Piper board the train back to campus, she can’t help but feel hope flickering in her chest. 

* * *

“They didn’t let me see him.” 

Annabeth looks up from her homework to see Percy standing in the doorway, swim bag slung over his shoulder and a lost look on his face. “Who?” 

Percy takes a deep breath. “Hedge said we didn’t have time and decided not to allow visitors at the meet. I barely had time to _look_ at Grover. All I could do was wave.” 

No words of comfort come. Percy has been looking forward to seeing Grover ever since Grover bused down for the first swim meet a few months ago. Add the time and anticipation to the letdown of barely being able to make eye contact… there’s nothing else to say to make it better. It just sucks. Instead she just says, “Come here.” 

He drops his bag on the way to the couch and falls onto the cushion with his back to her. Annabeth doesn’t waste time asking if he’s okay; she puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls his back into her chest. He’s pliant and follows her down to the cushion, laying so that his hair tickles underneath her chin.

She wraps her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbles. “Not your fault.” 

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” Annabeth changes tactics, aiming to distract him. “How’d you do?” 

“I got first. Sloan was right behind.” 

“That’s good.” There’s no use in fake optimism; Percy would see right through it. Focusing on a real, tangible victory is the only thing Annabeth can see getting him out of this funk. He’s worked too hard not to be proud of it, they just have to get past the sadness. 

“I just really needed to talk to him,” Percy sighs, closing his eyes. 

“You can talk to me,” Annabeth offers. 

“Yeah.”

A stilted silence wedges its way between them. Percy makes no effort to expand on Annabeth’s offer, and Annabeth makes no effort to persuade him. 

Annabeth sighs despite herself. This has become their new normal lately, him pulling away each time she tries to ask him what’s wrong. Even when she’s tactful about her questions, he still avoids giving a direct answer. Sometimes she pushes, but it’s too late in the night for that to end well for either of them. That doesn’t stop her from wondering what this could be about though.

He’s obviously stressed, but there has to be something else along with it. She can count on one hand the number of things he’s needed to talk about with Grover that he didn’t tell her. He’d come to her if he just needed help scheduling or with work; he certainly did for senior year.

But senior year stress was different. His stress dissipated the moment he crossed the threshold of Sally’s apartment. Now he carries his worries home with him.

There’s a nagging voice in the back of Annabeth’s mind she tries _really_ hard to ignore, but it’s hard to on days like this.

 _He knows you like him, that’s why he’s pulling away_.

She tries to explain it away, but logic fails her. Percy has never held onto his troubles on his own for this long. He always caves and tells her before too much time passes, but this has been weeks of increasing silence and time away from home. The only thing that’s changed is that they live in the same place now. If the problem follows him home, it’s entirely possible that _she’s_ part of it.

The worst part is that this is the most likely of the possibilities she’s thought through. It makes sense of everything; him staying out of the house, shutting her out, distracting himself with work.

Percy takes a deep breath and she prepares herself for him to get up and say goodnight, but it doesn’t come. Instead his head rolls slightly to the side, and she can see his eyes flutter closed.

Annabeth slides a cautious hand to feel his heartbeat and finds that he has, in fact, fallen asleep on her. A slight smile rests on his face for the first time in a while, and Annabeth will be damned if she does something to disturb him regardless of how late it is. He hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

And for the first time in weeks, that little nagging voice is silent. If Percy knew about her feelings for him, there’s no way he’d be comfortable enough to lay on her like this, much less fall asleep. He’d never lead her on or give her futile hope if he thought she liked him and he didn’t reciprocate. This doesn’t mean he reciprocates, but Annabeth is willing to bet he doesn’t know.

She takes a moment to appreciate this, the trust he has in her even if he won’t tell her what’s wrong. Hopefully he’ll let her in soon, but all she can do for now is show him that she’s here if he needs her.

Being there for him means keeping her feelings to herself. Annabeth can’t throw more on his plate while he’s this stressed and run down—it could ruin everything. He’s working hard enough without her dropping that bomb on him. And she refuses to make him more uncomfortable when he comes home; this place cannot become uncomfortable for him when it’s his one place away from stress. 

Percy makes a small noise in his throat and shifts his weight around. Annabeth feels her grip tighten a bit in fear of him getting up. His heartbeat and breathing quicken slightly, letting her know that he’s awake.

His voice is groggy. “Sorry about that, you’re just really comfy and I’m really tired. I can get up if you want.”

Annabeth has absolutely no idea how to communicate the fact that she would be happy to stay like this for the rest of the night, so she just responds “it’s fine.”

“You sure?” He tilts his head to try and look up at her, and Annabeth is grateful that he can’t see what’s probably a ridiculous smile spreading across her face.

“Mhm.” She nods, her chin bumping into the top of his head. “Hey, Percy?”

He tilts his head to tell her he’s listening.

“I’m always here for you if you need me. Even if it’s just for somewhere to fall asleep.”

“I know that,” he yawns. “Of course I know that. I’ll always be here for you, too.”

And with that, he drifts off once more, leaving Annabeth alone with her thoughts (which is about the last place she wants to be). 

Instead of letting her mind race away with the worst case scenarios, Annabeth takes a deep breath and focuses on Percy, grounding herself to him. Even though he’s the source of the panic and confusion, the only time Annabeth feels safe enough to think about it without completely breaking down is when she’s with him. Right now she needs the security without the crisis of considering why it only exists with him. (But that’s a bridge she has to cross another day.)

She focuses on his slow breath, on the pressure of his back against her chest, on the way one of his hands absentmindedly drums on his thigh before going limp and falling to her own. Now it just rests there, the heat from his palm searing into her skin and _dammit,_ there goes all hope of staying calm. 

He lets out a content sigh, and something constricts in Annabeth’s chest. That feeling of holding a precious thing returns, like he’s a puppy she’s privileged to have earned the trust of. It tugs hard on her heart. 

Painfully aware of how ridiculous the whole thing is, Annabeth tightens one arm around his shoulders while bringing the other up to play with his hair the way that always puts him to sleep. 

And yeah. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she knows this about him, that she’s played with his hair until he’s fallen asleep too many times to count, that this is far from the first time one of them has pulled the other in to cuddle on the couch. She’s aware. She’s just helpless to do much else in the wake of her feelings for him. If she can’t tell him about them, she has to take the little moments as they come. 

But none of the little moments feel little. They feel astronomically important; Annabeth finds herself thinking about glances and brushed fingertips and word choice for weeks after the events themselves. 

Annabeth prides herself on her ability to retain important knowledge. She has an academic scholarship at an incredible school—her brain is a champion of recognizing and storing crucial information. So why can’t she let something as dumb as him falling asleep on her for the umpteenth time go? Why does it feel so _big_ now? 

Her chest constricts at the thought of waking him, but she knows he needs real sleep more than she needs this moment. 

“Perce,” she rubs up and down one of his arms with her other hand still in his hair. “You should get to bed.” 

“Don’t wanna go,” he groans, his grip tightening on her leg. 

It takes everything in Annabeth to stay strong. “We gotta. You’ve got practice in the morning, you need to get actual sleep.” 

“Fuck practice, I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” she sighs. “But we have Saturday.” 

“S’not enough.”

“No, but it has to do for now.” With that, she gently pushes Percy up and stands, offering him her hand. They grab wrists to help hoist him off the couch, the momentum from which leaves him standing far too close to Annabeth. Silently, like something might shatter if she moves too quickly, Annabeth grabs Percy’s other wrist and starts taking slow, backwards steps toward their rooms. 

Percy follows, a slight smile resting on his lips. His eyes are nearly shut, the bags under them as prevalent now as they were for midterms. Maybe worse. 

His feet drag on the floor as he shuffles after Annabeth, leaning forward like he could fall into her at any moment. Not that she could catch him, but she’d do her best to break his fall. 

All she wants is to take care of him. Here he is, distraught and looking as though he could drop dead any second, and Annabeth can do precisely _nothing_ to help him. 

It’s too late for talking to be of any use, but she has to try. 

“Percy,” she sighs, stopping in between their doors. “ _Please_ talk to me. It doesn’t even have to be right now, I’m just worried—”

He slides his wrists out of her grip and she lets him step away, feeling a pang in her chest as he goes. “I’m tired, okay?” His voice isn’t hostile, but he ducks his chin and runs a hand through his hair with enough frustration for Annabeth’s guard to go up. “Can we just… talk about this later?”

Later isn’t going to come, Annabeth is sure of that. If she drops this now, it’s going to get brushed aside like every other time he’s come home this drained. 

There has to be something deeper than his schedule doing this to him. The exhaustion, they can handle. They’ve tackled that as a team before, and they could again. It’s refusing to talk, the excuses he gives that he has to know she sees right through. Why is he banking on her not calling him out? _Why hasn’t she called him out?_  

Annabeth’s gaze catches on the bags under his eyes before she looks into them. He answers her questioning look with a challenging one. If this goes farther, it’s going to end in a fight. 

The realization knocks the breath out of Annabeth, and she bites her tongue. If the circumstances were any different, she would take him up on that challenge, but it’s too late for anything remotely good to come from it. 

 Instead of pushing, Annabeth drops her gaze and backs away. She can see conflict on Percy’s face in her peripheral, but she doesn’t look back at him until it fades away to something she can’t read. It doesn’t make her any more comfortable. 

“Yeah, I’ll drop it,” she says, trying to keep her voice level. 

At least ten emotions cross over Percy’s face as he considers her response; she can pick out guilt, hurt, and gratitude in particular before they solidify back into unfamiliarity. 

“Thanks,” is all he offers. 

Annabeth doesn’t know what else her tone conveys when she tells him goodnight, but based on the way she retreats behind her door when he responds in kind, she knows it can’t lead to anything good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **You come around and the armor falls**  
>  **Pierce the room like a cannon ball**  
>  **Now all we know is don’t let go**  
> 
> 
> Did choose Percy’s birthday to come back from hiatus? Yes, absolutely. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, thank you to everyone for being so patient. I haven’t written in three months, so I’m back with a vengeance. School starts tomorrow though, so we’ll see how my schedule lets me write before making any promises.  
> The song for this chapter is State of Grace - Acoustic // Taylor Swift (because it isn’t a fic of mine until TS is on the playlist). If you have any questions or just want to yell, feel free to hit up my tumblr @bipercabeth! I’ll respond to everything here as well, but I can’t promise it’ll be as timely. Thanks for reading! 


	5. is it my fault (we've been missing each other)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **I took a walk on a Saturday night**  
>  **Fog in the air just to make my mind seem clear**  
>  **Where do I go from here?**  
> 

Finals being around the corner is about the worst thing that could happen to Percy and Annabeth, both as individuals and friends. Swim season intensifies, meaning that nearly every moment Percy isn’t working or doing schoolwork he spends at the gym or the stadium. He leaves earlier and comes home later. Annabeth can’t remember the last time they had a meaningful conversation.

That’s a dramatization, but even their Saturdays are changing. Annabeth is the first one up now, and she doesn’t have the heart to wake him knowing he barely sleeps on weekdays. Schoolwork also encroaches on their safe space, coming as much from Annabeth’s side of things as Percy’s. 

Annabeth’s classes are not kind to her. Her fears from midterms remain ever present even though she’s got a head start on her final essay for English. Gen-Eds might be the death of her—not out of difficulty, but the hopelessness of studying subjects that do nothing to get her where she’s going. That was supposed to be something she left behind in high school. 

The lights are off when Annabeth comes home, and she assumes this means she’s in for another lonely night until she sees Percy at the kitchen table with his face buried in his hands, illuminated only by the dim light from his computer. He doesn’t acknowledge Annabeth even as the lights flicker on and the door clicks shut behind her. 

For a split second, she thinks he’s fallen asleep while working, but then she sees the tension in his shoulders, his hands clenching and unclenching, his leg bouncing in irritation. 

She sets her bag by the door. “Take a break, Percy.” 

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I just took a break. I can’t take another,” he snaps. 

Annabeth takes a deep breath to collect herself. She and Percy handle stress very differently, but he’s always patient with her when she needs help. She owes him the same. 

By the time she’s smothered the flare of anger, Percy is typing away furiously, but the longer Annabeth looks, the more he hits the backspace button. He types one sentence and erases two, backtracking after each step forward. Annabeth wonders if she looked this way during midterms. 

Sympathy courses through Annabeth, moving her to walk forward and slide her hands over his shoulders, testing the waters of his frustration. When he doesn’t tense further, she knows his negativity is aimed at himself and the paper, not her. She finds the tightest muscles and works out some of the stress as he types away, slowly leaning back into her touch. 

Once his back straightens instead of hunching, Annabeth wraps her arms around his neck and rests her chin on his shoulder to see what he’s typing. “What’s the assignment?” 

The stress in his voice is almost appalling. “Paper for Bio. Can’t pass the class without a good grade. It’s sink or swim.” 

Annabeth glances at the word count. 1,304. “How much do you have left?”

“I’m going to be up all night.”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?” 

“Thanks for pointing that out, Annabeth.”

A spark of annoyance flares in her chest and she does her best to ignore it. “Then call off, or trade shifts if you can—”

“I’ve already asked everyone who could cover for me and no one can. I have to go.” Objectively, Annabeth knows that the way his jaw clenches when he’s done talking means she should stop pushing, but that rarely deters her. 

“You don’t _have_ to go.” 

Percy turns to look at her with a bewildered seriousness on his face, jolting her from her resting place on his shoulder. “Rent is coming up, of course I have to work this shift. I’m _not_ making you scramble for cash last minute because I let you down.” He doesn’t meet her eyes after he says it; he just turns back and resumes his attack of the keyboard. 

His words constrict Annabeth’s heart just a bit tighter in her chest. She didn’t grow up worrying about money the same way he did, and it comes out in ugly ways during times like this. 

“Percy,” she winces. He doesn’t face her, but he tilts his head. “You aren’t letting me down. One shift’s pay is _not_ worth you running yourself into the ground. It’s no problem for me to pick something up this weekend.” 

“But we agreed—”

“I know what we agreed to pay, and I’m saying it doesn’t matter if it means seeing you do this to yourself. You can pay me back some other way if it matters that much to you. But please—” she puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes until he stops typing and makes eye contact “—never think you’re letting me down again. There’s nothing you could do to do that, alright?”

There’s a moment where his eyes search hers, almost disbelieving, before he accepts her response. A grateful hand creeps up to cover and squeeze her own as he ducks his head and nods. Annabeth takes that as her cue to pull a seat up next to him. 

“Alright then. Let’s get to work on this paper, I have a friend who will edit it for you.”

* * *

As promised, Percy calls out the next day. He grimaces during the entire conversation with his manager, but things smooth over when he apologizes. Annabeth can hear his manager’s slight sigh from where she sits, and she makes out enough of the conversation to determine that Percy’s work ethic and lack of prior missed shifts keeps him in the clear despite today’s inconvenience. 

When the phone call ends, some of Percy’s stress visibly leaves his body. He still looks weighed down, but his burden looks a little lighter now. Annabeth can’t help her grin when he collapses into the couch next to her. 

“Feeling better?” she asks, trying to keep her smile in check. 

Percy’s head falls back onto the cushion. “ _Yes_.”

“I’m glad.” Annabeth picks her phone out of her pocket. “I’m going to see if there’s something I can pick up this week. I’m sure Emily will be able to trade, she only works for spending money. She’ll probably offer me her whole schedule.” 

Percy chuckles out a few choice words about Emily while Annabeth looks for the Starbucks group chat and asks if anyone has a shift she can take this week. As expected, Emily responds within minutes complaining about her schedule’s conflicts with her weekend plans and offers both her Saturday afternoon and Sunday night shifts. 

“You only need one shift,” Percy insists from over her shoulder, having scooted closer to look as soon as her phone dinged with Emily’s response.

“Yeah.”

“Sunday,” he says immediately. “If that works for you,” he adds, ducking his head. 

“That works,” she responds, resting her head against his before typing out her response. If Emily is miffed by Annabeth only taking one shift, Annabeth doesn’t really care. 

A sense of peace falls over the room along with comfortable silence. Percy opens his laptop and rests his feet on the coffee table to get more work done before class. The essay is due Monday, so the rough draft he turns in during class today is only a completion grade to make sure students are keeping up with the assigned checkpoints. It doesn’t completely account for his stress last night, but Annabeth decides that’s best put firmly behind them. 

She opens her own laptop and mirrors him, their hands typing away in union. The steady typing and otherwise silent apartment calm the beat of Annabeth’s heart, especially when Percy turns and shoves his cold feet under her leg. 

Annabeth swats at his shins before giving in and meeting the unabashed smile he throws her with a scowl that’s too amused to hold much threat. The mood shifts to normalcy as they resume their work, a tinge of domesticity accompanying the change. 

Moments like this are the most confusing of all to Annabeth, because she really isn’t thinking about her feelings during them. It’s like nothing has changed, like this massive internal struggle she’s going through doesn’t exist until she dissects their actions in her memory later. But right now everything is easy; simple even. Things have always been easy with Percy, even when they weren’t simple. 

The rest of the week follows this pattern: easy. Their schedules continue to drag on, as do their classes, but Annabeth thinks they might have finally cleared the air between them. Percy isn’t home any more than usual, so no major changes are made, but he comes home with a smile on his face more often than he doesn’t. 

Things are just _easy_. Easy when she sets Percy up with Jason’s number for help with the essay and things finally click into place with him meeting Jason. Easy when he comes home looking lighter than he has in weeks. Easy enough that keeping quiet about this whole feelings thing is getting really difficult. 

Annabeth wakes up on Sunday to an empty apartment just like any other, finding comfort in the routine instead of loss in Percy’s absence. Her morning goes as usual: microwave breakfast, FaceTime Piper, finish the work she pushed off to keep Saturday free. It’s an incredibly productive day as far as Sundays go, and she manages to finish her schoolwork a few minutes before her alarm to get ready for work goes off.  

Getting dressed takes longer than usual given the weather today, but Annabeth makes it out of her room with time to spare. She gives herself a onceover in the entryway mirror and pockets her keys just as the door bursts open and Percy stumbles in. 

“Okay, good,” he sighs in relief. “You’re still here.” Then he darts into his room without a word, picking up his backpack from the couch on the way.

Sensing his urgency, Annabeth stays put. She was planning on leaving early, but whatever he’s got up his sleeve takes precedence. 

Percy comes out moments later with one arm through his hoodie while the other struggles to hold both his backpack and sneakers. He plops onto the couch to organize and put on his shoes. 

“I’m coming with you,” he insists, breathless from his rush. 

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Jason isn’t going to be free to help for a few hours.”

“Yeah, and it’s my fault you’re working tonight, so I’m going to keep you company.” Stubbornness sets in his voice, and Annabeth knows she won’t get anywhere by protesting (not that she’s inclined to anyway). 

“Not your fault,” she presses. She leaves it at that, but the hard line of his jaw tells her he doesn’t believe it.

His hands still in the middle of tying his shoes, and for a moment Annabeth is certain this is about to blow up into a fight over who owes the other more. But after his head dips with a sigh, Percy finishes his knot and straightens up, a smile plastered on his face. He walks past her to open the door and gestures dramatically for her to exit, which she does. 

They brace themselves for the bitter New York wind as they exit the building and make a beeline for the closest subway stop. On a nicer day, Annabeth would walk, but her skin stings and her eyes water from the harsh weather. She puts on her best glare and walks in front of Percy, forging a path through the crowded sidewalk. 

Annabeth pulls to the side once they reach the platform, allowing Percy to stand next to her. She feels the warm press of his shoulder into hers even through all the layers of clothes separating them. 

He pulls his scarf off his face and grins at her despite the horrors of the crowded public transportation. His nose and cheeks are tinged red from the cold, and his grin has Annabeth warm down to her toes despite the weather. He looks impossibly soft, all flushed skin and dimples. 

The train pulling up saves Annabeth from having to speak real words as they shoulder their way inside, determined to be on time for her shift. Bodies press into them on all sides, resulting in Annabeth standing in front of Percy, his chest firm against her back. There’s little room for conversation, which she’s grateful for, because she’s not sure what she’d say to fill what little space there is between them. 

A turn lurches the car to the left, sending several passengers scrambling for their handholds, but Annabeth lets the momentum sway her into Percy, knowing he’s got her. As expected, he is steady and reassuring—she doesn’t miss the way his free forearm subtly redirects a man who would’ve crashed into her. In this setting, his protectiveness is welcome. She can’t risk getting anything on her work uniform, and that man is carrying an awfully precarious cup of coffee. 

They make it out of the subway and back onto the street quickly despite time not being on their side. Annabeth weaves through the crowd, trusting the Percy will be right behind her as always. 

She bursts through the glass Starbucks door with two minutes to spare. Shucking off her outerwear takes almost an entire minute on its own, but she’s able to throw it over the chair next to Percy instead of putting it away properly in the back. Her hair gives her grief as she tries to put it up and walk to punch in, but she manages to wrangle it and secure her apron before running out of time. 

“I know this isn’t supposed to be a regular thing, but god am I glad you picked up this shift. Closing with Emily is the worst.” 

Annabeth starts just as she finishes punching in her number and turns to see Jason leaning against the wall across from her. 

She smiles and mirrors his position. “She’s that shitty, huh?” 

“Oh no, Sunday nights are so slow, I get most of the closing stuff done before she even clocks in,” he says, a bit of pride accompanying the laughter in his voice. Annabeth looks around to find he’s right—everything that could be stocked before closing is not only stocked, but _neat_. “It’s the conversation that kills me. How is it possible for someone with so little personality to be so annoying?” 

A loud laugh escapes Annabeth before she remembers that she and Jason are in the back with no one manning the register. “We should head out,” she groans. 

“Actually, since we close late and Trent trusts me to lock up, we—” he gestures around them proudly “—are completely free from overbearing bosses.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“That’s the magic of Sunday nights.” 

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Annabeth grins. “But I should still get out there, Percy came with me today.” 

If Annabeth wasn’t sure Jason would make a joke about a hostile workplace, she’d smack him for the grin that spreads across his face. “I thought he wasn’t coming until later?” 

“He surprised me,” she shrugs.

“That’s pretty cute.” 

This time she does smack him. 

“Wow, if I’d known you coming on Sunday meant entering a hostile work environment, I would’ve—”

“Jason. Shut up.” Annabeth frowns. “Did Piper tell you?” 

“I mean, technically yes, but I figured something was up when you first started talking about him.” Jason ducks to peak outside and make sure there are no customers. Annabeth is still frozen in the same place when he returns. 

“What does that mean?” she huffs.

“It _means_ you get this look on your face when you talk about him.” 

“I do not.” 

“You’re literally doing it right now. It’s like you’re relaxed and tense all at once. Like, you’re smiling, but you also look tense enough to punch me any second.” Annabeth reflexively raises her hand at him, but lowers it at Jason’s triumphant smirk. The asshole. “But um, speaking of Piper… I wanted to thank you.” 

“There’s no need, honestly,” Annabeth deflects, but Jason is annoyingly grateful and kind. 

“No, really. I’m not sure how long it would’ve taken us to have that conversation without you, and we’re doing really well because of it.” 

His smile is infectious. “God, you’ve got it bad, huh?” she teases. 

Jason ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. Feel free to tell me how disgusting it is.” 

Before Annabeth can do just that, her phone dings in her back pocket. It’s a text from Percy telling her they’ve got impatient customers. 

When she shows it to Jason, he nods and heads to the register, putting on that god-forsaken customer service voice that always makes Annabeth crack up while she starts on their drinks. She mouths a ‘thank you’ to Percy from across the counter as she rushes around trying not to anger this middle-aged couple. 

The rest of the shift is as slow as Jason said it would be, leaving them with enough freedom to rotate who works and who doesn’t depending on the time between orders. Annabeth gives Jason more time off than she takes since he’s helping Percy with his essay in his spare time (and because she gets tired of Jason giving her smug looks from where he works).

The two boys clicked about as well as Annabeth expected, instantly bonding over bad jokes and a mutual love of making Annabeth miserable with them. Their banter while she makes drinks almost makes her regret introducing them, and she flips them off countless times to make sure they know it. 

Before she knows it, Jason is locking the door and helping her put the finishing touches on closing up. He mops, she cleans the windows, and Percy insists on helping them wipe down tables. Together they make one hell of a team, which leaves them sitting around for ten minutes waiting to clock out. 

Percy pulls out his wallet and looks at Jason. “Look, I’m not sure what you usually charge for this, but I’d be happy to—”

Jason waves him away before he can finish. “Friends don’t pay.” He looks at Annabeth. “Or friends of friends.” 

“Who _does_ pay?” Annabeth muses. “If you don’t let any of your friends pay you for your work, and the only people you make time for are your friends, does this tutoring thing actually pay at all?” 

“Just because I like _you_ doesn’t mean I’m friends with everyone I meet.” 

“I think it does. I’m pretty difficult,” she says, turning to Percy. 

“She _is_ pretty difficult,” he shrugs in agreement. 

“I hate you both,” Jason mumbles. 

Annabeth smirks. “Then you have to let us pay you.” 

“I—” Jason pinches the bridge of his nose in a failed attempt to cover his laughter. “I’m not going to make my broke friends pay when I could cover it by overcharging some asshole who expects me to do all the work for him.” 

“So noble,” Percy swoons. 

Jason’s phone rings out with his reminder to clock out, effectively saving him from Percy and Annabeth’s teasing. Percy waits for the two of them as they go to the back. 

“Seriously,” Annabeth says as he clocks out, “take my tips from today. Between my English and this, I owe you.” 

“You know that face you make when you talk about Percy?” 

“Stop distracting me.” 

“He makes it too,” Jason comments, a grin in his voice although Annabeth can’t see his face. “It’s not as punchy as yours, but the smile is the same. You wanna pay me?” He moves to the side and faces Annabeth as she clocks out. “Ask him out.” 

Annabeth coughs and splutters all over the clock. “And here I was under the impression that you talked to Piper.” 

Jason laughs and pats her on the back. “Oh, I did, but if you need a second opinion, there’s one for you.” 

“This is my love life, not a medical procedure.” 

“You could’ve fooled me,” he narrows his eyes at her. 

Instead of dignifying his taunt with a response, Annabeth rolls her eyes and heads out to see Percy. Jason follows and locks the door behind her. 

Percy, sweet boy that he is, is holding her coat and scarf out for her when she gets there. Annabeth refuses to look in Jason’s direction when Percy helps her into her coat.

The three of them don’t have to part ways until the subway, at which point Annabeth hugs Jason goodbye while Percy thanks him one last time and waves. 

“I like him,” Percy comments as they watch Jason walk to his line from where they wait for their train. 

“Knew you would.” Annabeth nudges his shoulder with hers. “What’d you guys end up talking about for so long, anyway?” 

For a split second, Annabeth is afraid that Percy is going to shut her out, but then he smiles. “Everything? Nothing? I honestly don’t remember most of it. My brain is mush from all the caffeine and biology talk.” He ducks his head instead of meeting her eyes, stoking her fear once more.

But then Percy’s smile changes—all relaxed with a hint of tenseness—and Annabeth thinks there might be hope after all. 

* * *

Hope is a cruel trick, Annabeth thinks. The universe only gives it to lovesick idiots. 

Part of her knew that her and Percy’s efforts to keep things from getting between them wouldn’t last; it was only a matter of time before finals or swim season hit like a hurricane and erased all the progress they made. That amount of time turns out to be exactly a week. 

The Monday after Annabeth’s Starbucks shift, Percy gets slammed by his new swim practice schedule. He can’t risk reducing his study time, and he doesn’t dial back his shifts at the diner, so he’s dead on his feet every time Annabeth sees him. 

Annabeth almost never sees him. 

Except that one time she caught him trying to walk out the front door with his hoodie on backwards. How tired does someone have to be to not notice that their _hoodie_ is on backwards? 

He comes home on a night Annabeth stays up working on a math study guide, and Annabeth’s mind honest to god jumps to the conclusion of _intruder_ before it considers that Percy might be back. She takes one look at him, sees the guilt written on his face, and her whole body tenses in anticipation of whatever blow he’s about to deliver. 

“I have to work this Saturday.” 

Annabeth isn’t sure how to respond. After months of effort and promises to keep Saturdays free, suddenly he can’t? “Your schedule hasn’t changed all semester. Why now?” 

“I don’t know,” he lies, and Annabeth _knows_ he’s lying from the way his eyes dart away from hers. She should be concerned about why he’s lying—what force is driving him to pick up an extra shift and worsen an already terrible weekly schedule—but he’s _lying_ to Annabeth, and that’s something she can’t get past. They’ve had their difficulties these past few weeks where he’s obfuscated and danced around the truth, but he hasn’t gone so far as to lie to her face. 

“If you didn’t want to come to the concert with me, you could’ve just said something,” she frowns, turning back to her work passive aggressively. 

“The concert?” Percy balks as the realization hits him. “Holy shit, the concert. I’m so sorry. But I promised—I have to…” He stops himself, hopefully understanding that either of those aborted sentences leads to a direct contradiction of his promise to go to the show with Annabeth. 

But he also makes no effort to fix it. He doesn’t try to switch shifts or call out, and though Annabeth knows he has no room in his schedule to do either of those things, the angrier, hurt part of her really isn’t satisfied. He lies to her _and_ flat out rejects her. 

He stands in front of her looking defeated and says, “I just really don’t have the time right now.” 

She bites her tongue to stop a scathing _you don’t have the time for_ anything _right now_ from rolling off of it. After one, two, three beats and calming breaths, Annabeth manages a less venomous response. 

She prays that her voice stays steady. “It’s okay, I’ll just sell the tickets.”

“No, no, you should go,” Percy rushes, sensing her disappointment. 

“With who?” Annabeth levels. “And before you answer, Jason and Piper aren’t free.” 

Percy’s confidence drains as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He doesn’t want to say it, but that accounts for every single one of Annabeth’s friends. 

Part of Annabeth wants to push him to say it. 

But then she sees the way he’s concaved; collapsing in on himself in the wake of the situation, and she reels her temper in before she says something she can’t take back. 

“Okay,” she starts, closing her notebook and stacking her work to retreat to her room. “I’ll go alone then. Shouldn’t be much of a change.”

As Annabeth walks past him to her room for the night, she can’t help but think the worst part about her exit is that she doesn’t regret her words; not even when she sees the look on Percy’s face after. 

* * *

Annabeth tries to psych herself up for the concert; she really does. She wakes up after Percy leaves and blasts the band’s discography from her phone, plays it in the shower, while she waits for her food to heat up, as she does her homework (since there’s no use in pushing it until Sunday). 

But something about the sound bounces wrongly off the walls of the empty apartment. On their own, the lyrics are kind of cringey—the type of cringey that doesn’t sound right without your best friend screaming them beside you. This is roadtrip music; it needs to be accompanied by steering wheel drum solos, unashamed window down duets, a radio turned up so loud it might blow a speaker. Now it rings hollowly in Annabeth’s ears. 

Search as she may for the motivation to go to the concert, Annabeth never finds it. Sunset passes and the apartment darkens like a timelapse of Annabeth in the same place on the couch, the lead singer serenading her through the phone on her stomach. If the upbeat sound and sad lyrics were bad before, they’re downright melodramatic now that Annabeth wallows in her feelings. She hates how pathetic it all is. 

She’s still there when Percy comes in, but she can’t be bothered to care about her dignity anymore. Her legs are up on the back of the couch, she’s blasting the saddest song from their saddest album, and it’s obvious she’s been like this for hours. Any claim to care would be a lie, and Annabeth has had enough with lying. 

Percy walks on eggshells toward her, and a nastier part of Annabeth is glad he has the decency to be cautious. 

“Why are you still here?” he asks gently, but his words rub her the wrong way. She doesn’t know if any greeting would be acceptable, but that one certainly isn’t. 

She takes her time opening her phone and turning off the music before answering. “My best friend bailed on seeing a band we’ve listened to for years, and I didn’t feel like going alone.” 

He flinches at her tone. “Annabeth, I really can’t do this right now.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow and nods, keeping her voice light. “Then when can you?” 

“What?”

“Well, we’ve been pushing conversations off for weeks, so I was wondering if you had a time in mind or if you just don’t plan on talking about it at all.” Hurt bubbles up in Annabeth’s throat, and she pushes it down in favor of feigned disinterest, watching Percy in her peripheral instead of looking him in the eye. 

Where he would usually whirl on her, Percy sighs in defeat. The action should make Annabeth sympathetic, but instead she feels herself growing even _angrier_ because he knows fully well that he’s in the wrong and _still_ does nothing. 

“What do you want from me, Annabeth?” he sighs, asks, demands. He’s using her name the way he usually does when one of them is upset, but it’s exasperated where it’s always been fond and comforting. 

Annabeth swings her legs to the floor and stands, crossing her arms and leveling with him. “Some quality fucking time would be nice.” Cursing will only escalate things, but they’re at the point of the argument where they each have to decide whether a fight is worth getting their feelings off their chests, and Annabeth won’t push this conversation off any longer.

She’s _sick_ of the tension between them, of them tiptoeing around each other like they aren’t roommates—like they aren’t best friends. It’s ridiculous. 

Her words have an instant effect on Percy, whose spine straightens and shoulders tense. “Do you think I just look at my schedule and _ask_ to get fucked up by it? That I want to come home when you’re already asleep? I will give you my goddamn timetable if you don’t believe me. I’m trying, but things are hard right now.” 

“How am I supposed to know? You won’t talk to me about any of it!” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Annabeth.” 

“Like when you told me the truth about why you had to work today? That kind of ‘ _wouldn’t lie to me_ ’?” Before Percy can defend himself, Annabeth continues, getting choked up far too early. “Or every time you push off the conversation for another day? Lies of omission are still lies, Percy.” 

“Not being able to follow through isn’t the same thing as lying,” he defends, but his voice is quiet enough that Annabeth isn’t sure he believes himself. “I’m _trying_. Things are just really hard right now.” 

“Then let me help,” Annabeth pleads, stepping around the couch to get closer. “You don’t have to do any of this alone! I can help you study, or plan out your week, or with money if you’d just _let me_ —”

Percy turns on her, his voice low. “You are _not_ helping me with money.” 

“Why not?” she demands. 

He shakes his head and his jaw sets. “We aren’t getting into this again.” 

“We never actually got into it in the first place, so I think we need to.” She’s edging closer to him now, her voice tinged with a dangerous edge. Objectively, Annabeth knows they need to stop if there’s any hope of this being a rational conversation, but she’s too pissed off. “Why can’t I help you? Why do you have to do this all alone?! Is it to prove that you can, that you don’t need me? Is your pride—”

“Do you _really_ want to bring up pride right now?” 

“Do you _really_ want to attack mine to avoid answering?” she nearly spits. 

“This isn’t something you’re going to understand!” He rakes his hands through his hair, his eyes wide. “My scholarship and my job are the only things keeping me at this school, so I have to put swimming, school, and work first.”

“I understand! I’m not asking you to put me before any of that.” 

“That’s not it.”

“Then _tell me!_ ” 

“You came from money! I _know_ you don’t want it, but it’s there if you need it. If you can’t pay rent, you can phone home. I can’t do that to my mom!”

“When was the last time I ‘phoned _home_ ,’ Percy? Please, I’m dying to know.” A stilted silence falls over them as she awaits his answer. Months, at least; Annabeth is willing to bet he has no idea. “When I needed money, I picked up an extra shift, same as you.”

“But you could—”

“I could, what, call my dad? Maybe my step-mom if I’m feeling lucky? ‘Hey, I know we haven’t spoken since I told you I’m going to college in New York, but is there any chance you could help me with this month’s rent? I’m a little short.’ I came here to get away from all that,” she scoffs. “At least you have a home to go back to if this falls apart. Mine is probably another study for my dad to lock himself in by now.” Annabeth chuckles harshly and blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lashes. 

She risks a glance at Percy, who is frozen in place, his face somewhere between frustration and sympathy. The sight of it makes Annabeth bristle even more. She doesn’t want his sympathy—she wants him to get as angry as she feels. 

“I knew you wouldn’t get it,” he sighs. His voice is more upset than unkind, but Annabeth takes offense just the same. 

“Really? Because that’s what it sounds like,” she snarls. “I might come from money, but that doesn’t mean my life was easy.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“Then _what_ are you saying?!” 

“That I am _constantly_ letting you down!” 

His words hang heavily in the air. Annabeth shifts uncomfortably under the weight of them. 

“My grades are slipping, my performance is slipping, and now _this?_ With money _and_ our friendship? I’ve been letting you down since the second we moved in together and it’s fucking _killing_ me!” 

That kills Annabeth, because as much as she wants to rebuke that, there’s a devastating moment where she hesitates, scrambling for words that don’t come. In that moment, hurt flickers in Percy’s eyes, and he knows he’s right. 

He takes a step back and looks at his feet. “You see? You know it’s true.” 

Annabeth tries to take a step forward, to close that distance between them. Maybe then she can ignore that it was there in the first place. “I don’t know what to—” 

“It’s okay.” Percy nods defeatedly and steps around her, heading for his room. 

Tears well up in Annabeth’s eyes, but she fights through them as she follows Percy. She grasps at straws trying to find the words she needs to say to fix this, but she doesn’t even know if they exist. If they do, they’re out of her vocabulary. In her desperation, she reaches for his hand as he turns to open his door. 

“Percy, _please._ I didn’t say that.” 

He looks up from his feet, and Annabeth finds tears in his eyes mirroring her own. “You didn’t have to,” he says sadly, sliding his hand from hers. “Goodnight, Annabeth.” 

Before Annabeth can process what’s happening enough to stop it, Percy slips behind his door. She doesn’t have it in her to wrestle it open before the lock clicks and sounds off like a gunshot in Annabeth’s head. 

In her shock, Annabeth finds herself sliding down the wall across from his door. Words from the fight echo around her head like flashbulb memories, taunting her with every line she crossed, buried in the rubble of the walls she tried to knock down too quickly. 

Annabeth’s shoulders shake with the force of her sobs, and she’s sure he can hear them through his door despite her efforts to stifle them. Maybe if she stays out here long enough, he’ll come back out and they can try this again without all the venom. Percy has never been able to keep fighting for long, especially when they get to the point of tears. 

Annabeth feels like a goddamn fool. All of this time hiding her feelings has made her so painfully blind to Percy’s own struggles. A year ago, she would’ve picked up on what was wrong. As she plays through her memories of their almost-fights these past few months, she sees the signs. Him pulling away, him wanting to talk to Grover and his devastation when he couldn’t—it all makes sense through this lens. Instead of making an effort to understand, Annabeth spent her time upset that he didn’t have time for her. Percy went through everything she did and worse. 

He’s the one who flipped her world on its head the second they met, and he thinks he’s letting her down. 

Her one constant throughout the last seven tumultuous years, and he thinks something like grades or money would be enough for her to be disappointed in him? 

Annabeth’s sadness solidifies into tearful determination at the thought, moving her to wipe her eyes and haul her sorry ass off the apartment floor and to the couch. The risk of Percy slipping out of the apartment for work the next morning sobers Annabeth, and she plants herself on the couch with a sense of purpose. She’ll catch him when he goes to work in the morning, or on a midnight bathroom run if she’s lucky. However long she has to wait; she’ll stay up all night if she has to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **Walking down to the water's edge**  
>  **Asking why I'm here instead of home**  
>  **Now I stand alone**  
> 
> 
> I'm pretty sure this is record time for an update of this fic! I guess this is what happens when I don't make promises about uploading new chapters lmao. It's so wild to think that this fic is halfway over!! This is probably my favorite chapter so far, I literally wrote 4k words in a feverish haze yesterday until 3 AM, so I'm amazed that I still liked it when I woke up. Thank you for reading this far, I appreciate every message and comment y'all leave! If you want to message me, the fastest way is through my tumblr @bipercabeth, but I get back to comments on here as well! <3 


	6. sick of leaving things half done (leaving things half said)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **It's so excruciating to see you low**  
>  **Just wanna lift you up and not let you go**  
>  **This ultraviolet morning light below**  
>  **Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh**  
> 

When Annabeth wakes up, she’s in someone’s arms. The events of last night remain buried deep in her subconscious, and the only thing she processes is the warmth radiating from the chest she’s tucked against. 

It’s Percy that’s holding her—he’s the only person who could be—and he’s fumbling with the knob of her bedroom door while trying to balance her. Her stomach lurches as she dips, the uneasiness in her gut unleashing a wave of memories and shame. 

Annabeth half wishes she could play dead long enough for him to put her in bed and leave for work, but she owes him better than that. Her grand plan to catch him last night failed miserably, which she should’ve seen coming, but she was too upset to think critically. So, yeah, she owes it to him to be honest before he leaves, which could be any second. 

Annabeth puts a heavy hand on his chest. “I’m up,” she mumbles. 

Percy starts when he hears her voice and sets her down gingerly, avoiding her eyes the entire time. A weary smile creeps onto his face; Annabeth can see the apology forming in his throat when she beats him to it. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. 

Of the emotions that could cross Percy’s face, surprise is the one Annabeth least expects to see. She has a lot to apologize for. She glances at her watch to make sure they’ve got time for this conversation before work.

“Do you have time?” she double checks. “I don’t want to get into this if you have to leave soon.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I woke up early to switch shifts and take the morning off. I’m working tonight instead.” Percy rubs the back of his neck, still avoiding her eyes. 

Annabeth has to take a second for the full weight of his statement to hit. “That’s… thanks. That means a lot.” She takes full advantage of his averted gaze and bites her lip to curb her smile.

Then she looks at him— _really_ looks at him—and takes in how his head hangs low, his hands fidget, his eyebrows scrunch. It looks like he’s anticipating a blow, like Annabeth will be the one to deliver it. 

And, well, she did. Her silence last night was the harshest blow she could’ve dealt. Even now, Annabeth’s silence is a weight on his shoulders; she’d give anything to hold that burden for him. 

Annabeth softens. “You could never let me down,” she says softly. Percy exhales like she’s told him a bad joke, and she beckons him to the couch in response, walking as she talks. “I mean, maybe if you don’t watch a Harry Potter marathon with me at Christmas time, or, like, murder someone.” They sit. “But over money? Grades? Never. 

His eyes find hers for the first time since his door shut last night. The way his mouth opens slightly tells Annabeth he’s lost for words.

“I did a lot of thinking last night, but I couldn’t really get past that. You’re—” She chokes on the lack of words, on how much he means to her. “You’re everything to me. I need you to know that. I’m sorry for everything I did that made you think otherwise.” 

“I just feel like I can’t keep up,” he admits defeatedly. “Your grades are crazy good, and you haven’t had to scramble for rent once. I feel like I’m weighing you down.”

“You know I offered Jason my tips on Sunday without thinking? If he’d taken them, I wouldn’t have enough to make rent.”

“What?” 

Annabeth nods. “Yup. I almost really fucked up. I make plans for studying and budgeting, but they aren’t always enough. Like Sunday. Or midterms. But I’m also not balancing swim on top of all that. Your schedule is brutal. You can’t compare yourself to someone with twice the free time, it isn’t fair.” 

Shame floods Percy’s eyes as he tugs at his sleeves. “At a certain point I just couldn’t talk about it. I feel like I’m throwing away all of my opportunities. I got a swim scholarship to a great school, I live with my best friend, I like my job, and somehow those are the things I can’t seem to enjoy.”

“Please let me help you with your schedule,” Annabeth rushes, feeling as though she might burst if she doesn’t get the words out. “Please. Especially studying. I know we can’t do anything about swim practices, but I think we could make some progress. I stand by what I said about it last night.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we could do that. Swim and work will still be hard, though.” 

“Work doesn’t have to be.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks warily. 

Annabeth takes a deep breath to prepare for her next sentence, and Percy gives her the space to say it. “I’m going to ask my dad for money.” 

Her words hit him like an open hand to the face. All of his features that had softened in the past few minutes turn to stone. “No. Absolutely not.” 

“Percy, let me—”

“No.” He sits upright and looks at her with a mix of bewilderment and concern. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said. Your dad—you can’t—”

“Percy,” Annabeth interrupts. “Please let me finish. Then you can rip it to shreds.”

Percy closes his mouth and sits back to listen, looking entirely unhappy about it.

Annabeth closes her eyes and chooses her words carefully. “This isn’t just for you, Perce. We both need time to get ahead on money, and this is the only way we can. We can’t rely on getting enough tips to pay rent if there’s another option.” The look on Percy’s face tells her he doesn’t consider this an option. “And you’re right. We didn’t grow up with the same access to money. If I’ve got it, it’s something I should use instead of refusing it for the sake of pride and having that run us into the ground.”

He shakes his head, his voice deliberate despite the undercurrent of frustration. “You’re not refusing it for pride, you’re refusing it for freedom. That’s more important than me having an easy schedule.”

“The way you’ve been worries me. You aren’t taking care of yourself, and that’s not okay. You deserve to be able to do that. We deserve time together to relax and be dumb college kids. You get your grades up, get back into your groove before this meet, and both of us get time to get ahead on rent to prevent something like this happening again. I am not willing to let something like money get between us ever again if I can help it.”

“You do realize that you say ‘we’ and then only have specific instances regarding me, right? It’s not up to you to fix this for me.” 

“I’m not fixing it for you!” Annabeth cries out. As much as she loves and feels for Percy, she’s growing tired of him ignoring half of what she’s saying. He keeps trying to put words in her mouth that don’t fit. “Me offering Jason my tips for _one day_ shouldn’t have the power to make or break my half of this month’s rent. That’s _not_ okay!” 

They sit in stunned silence at Annabeth’s raised voice, and Annabeth knows from Percy’s face that they’re both afraid of this becoming a repeat of last night. 

“Look, I…” Annabeth doesn’t know how to take back her outburst without taking back her words. She’s weighing the potential damage when Percy softens and speaks. 

“No, you’re right. It’s risky to live paycheck to paycheck, and now there’s another option on the table.” The muscles in Percy’s jaw tighten despite his obvious efforts to keep his face neutral as he thinks. “It’s just… going in debt to your family, that changes so much. This can’t be our only option.” 

“It’s not our only option, but I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was our best one. Student loans are a nightmare. I don’t want us to struggle with them when we’re already worrying about so much.” She keeps her voice gentle, trying to reciprocate his attempt to restore order to the conversation. “And I also wouldn’t have offered if I hadn’t thought through the implications with my family, either. If my dad tries to throw some crazy conditions at me, I won’t say yes, but I’m willing to bet he won’t. He’s always been serious about my education, if nothing else.” 

At her last point, Percy sighs in defeat. “I know you wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a bad feeling about it.”

“I don’t particularly love it either, but I like it a whole lot more than fighting with you.” 

“Those aren’t the only two options.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t want you to think this is the only way out.” 

“I know it’s not, but I honestly think it’s the best one,” she insists. 

His tone shifts then, trust marginally overtaking his skepticism. “You’re sure?” 

Annabeth clings to that glimmer of hope and responds with an earnest, “ _Yes."_  

Percy takes a long pause, weighing the options with careful consideration. “Then I’m on board.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. If you think it’s the best move, I trust you. Just… let me know what’s going on, okay? If things go south, you have to promise me you’ll pull the plug.” He looks at her seriously. 

“I will,” she promises, and she can hear the end of the debate fall over the room. Annabeth feels her eyebrow creep up her forehead in silent question. Percy answers it by standing and offering his hand to her, opening his other arm. 

A smile grows on Annabeth’s face as she takes his hand, letting him pull her off the couch and straight into his chest. Her momentum carries her too far though, so Percy takes a stumbling step back to steady them and wraps her in his warm embrace. 

Annabeth winds her arms around his middle, lacing her fingers at the small of his back and sighing into him. The soft cotton of his shirt presses into her cheek. 

“I hate fighting,” he breathes into her hair. 

“Me too,” Annabeth whispers. 

Percy’s arms tighten around her, and she can feel his soft exhale on her neck, his fingers pressing into her back. It blows her mind to think that _Percy_ , the one constant in her whole life, her best friend, a pillar of support and love in every moment she didn’t deserve it, could possibly think he let her down. She closes her eyes and holds him just a bit tighter. 

“I love you,” she says, meaning it with every fiber of her being. 

His voice is equally thick. “I love you, too.” 

They press closer still, the moment charged with emotion. Here with their arms around each other, Annabeth can feel the broken pieces from last night shifting back into place, fixed by the steady pressure of Percy’s embrace. They’re going to be okay. 

* * *

Annabeth’s alarm goes off at some heinous hour on the morning of the swim meet. As she fumbles around her nightstand for her phone, part of her mind curses her for being such a good friend. She’d be getting a lot more sleep right now if she wasn’t. 

But she hauls her ass out of bed anyway, not bothering to brush her teeth or put on real clothes on her way to Percy rattling around in the kitchen. He’s always restless the morning of a big meet, his body full of nervous energy that won’t be useful for several hours. Instead, it’s channeled into domestic tasks like cooking—the only problem is that he can hardly eat any of it. Percy’s stress cooking is limited mostly to pancakes, French toast, and various other heavy foods that would sink him during his meet. 

So while Annabeth is noble in her sacrifice of sleep, she also has entirely selfish intentions. 

The whole thing is self-indulgent, really. Pre-meet Percy isn’t a sight Annabeth gets to see often, but she likes to soak it in when she can. His entire body radiates both nervous and excited energy, the combination of which is incredibly endearing. 

Though she can’t do this for every meet, she certainly tries. The moment Annabeth enters the kitchen and groans out her “Good morning,” a bit of the tension dissipates from Percy’s shoulders. She loves that she can do that for him, that she can ease some of life’s stress just by entering a room. It’s what he’s always done for her. 

It’s a welcome sight after their fight. They’re still working on some of the aftermath, but they’re back to Percy and Annabeth at their cores. That’s all Annabeth could ask for, really. 

Even the phone call with her dad went better than planned. He’d agreed to helping them, and there was a hint of pride in his voice when he mentioned her making good financial decisions. 

That messed Annabeth up for a bit, but Percy was right there by her side when she hung up the phone, her breath still caught in her throat, unsure of what to make of the whole thing. Perhaps the fact that she couldn’t wrangle it into one neat box was what bothered Annabeth—and hasn’t stopped nagging at the back of her mind. 

But Percy was there— _is_ there—to pull her into a hug the second she hangs up the phone, to ask if she’s alright, to offer anything she might need in case she’s lying with her responding, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Just like she’s here in the kitchen light, sitting on the counter and going over swimming strategy at the ass crack of dawn. Actually, it’s before then: the sky hasn’t even tinted purple yet. It’s still midnight blue, which means it’s a crime to be awake. It also means that she’s far too tired to keep up with Percy throwing swim jargon around at a mile a minute, but she accepts that’s a battle she can’t win. 

Annabeth crosses her ankles and tries to contain her smile as he bustles about, his eyes alight with a brand of crazy he only gets when he talks swim. He gushes— _gushes_ —about his excitement to be in a relay with Beckendorf, and the gravity of that for him is palpable in the weight of his voice, the way his hands flex in anticipation. 

“What spot are you?” she asks. 

“Last,” he responds with that smile that dimples only his right cheek. 

Annabeth raises her eyebrow. “Oh?” 

Percy rubs his neck and ducks his head, looking impossibly sweet as he battles his pride and desire to downplay his achievements. “Yeah, Coach made the call. First Beck, then Mason, Sloan, and me.” 

“You’re the fastest then?” she prods.

The faintest blush dusts his cheeks. “That’s not what I said.” 

“But that _is_ the implication.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” His silence gives Annabeth the confirmation she needs. “Holy shit, Perce. That’s huge!” 

“Well, this is the first time we’re competing together, so don’t jinx it.” He rolls his eyes at her, but she can see the excitement in them. 

Annabeth sticks her tongue out at him and knocks on the wood of the kitchen cabinet by her head for luck. “What else are you competing in?” she asks as he turns his attention to the pancakes he nearly burned in his distraction. 

“Just the 200 IM. Prelims and finals are on the same day, so Coach only gave us two or three events each to keep us from tiring out too bad. Speaking of which…” he grabs a few pieces of toast from their plate. “Carbs. Then I gotta head out, we’re busing up in a bit.” 

Percy sets a plate for Annabeth on the table and looks at its contents wistfully. Before he can grab anything he’s not supposed to, Annabeth hops off the counter, shooing him away. 

“I’ll save some for when we get back, okay?” she laughs, only delighting in his torture a little. 

He sulks off to his room grumbling about pasta while Annabeth tucks away her breakfast, eager to get back to bed as soon as he’s gone. It doesn’t take long for him to reappear next to her with his bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Heading out?” Annabeth asks with her mouth full. As expected, some anxiety in Percy’s eyes fades away, replaced by a smile so big his eyes get all squinty. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, inviting her over for a hug. 

Annabeth is all too happy to comply, letting her fork clatter to her plate as she crosses the kitchen to collide with him. She rocks up on her toes and rests her chin on his shoulder; he leans down to do the same. 

“We’ll be there for your first heat,” she promises as they pull apart. 

His blush returns with a vengeance. “You know you don’t have to. Swim meets are awful and this one is so competitive that it’s going to be loud as fuck.”

“Yeah, because I’m going to be screaming my head off and hitting rival fans with a poster of your face the whole time you’re out there.”

“So the ten or less minutes I’m actually in the water?”

“Yes.” She shoves him toward the door. “Now go catch your bus, you bum. They’re going to leave you behind.”

* * *

“We should leave her behind.” 

“You should’ve told her we were meeting fifteen minutes earlier than we actually did.”

Annabeth laughs from the passenger seat of Jason’s car and looks at him to gauge his seriousness. “Oh my god, you’re not kidding.” 

He holds a finger up at her. “Don’t you dare. How many times has she made you late to things?” 

“I lost track back in September.” 

“Now imagine being her boyfriend.” 

“Okay, fair,” Annabeth laughs. “Should we get Frank first? Percy gave me his number yesterday. He’s been ready for like, twenty minutes.” 

Jason sighs. “No, we’re already—there she is!” 

Sure enough, Annabeth follows Jason’s gaze to see Piper sprinting out of her dorm while struggling with several signs flapping in the wind. She makes it to the car without losing any of them by some miracle, shoving them into the backseat and plopping down behind Annabeth. 

“Would you believe me if I said I’m late because I was working on the posters?” she pants. 

“Absolutely not, but it’s good to see you.” Annabeth smiles. 

Piper leans over the seats to peck Jason on the cheek while he turns out of the parking lot. Jason being Jason, he reminds her to put on her seatbelt. 

“I’m taking the poster of Percy’s face,” she grumbles, putting on her seatbelt and crossing her arms. 

“What?!” Jason keeps his eyes on the road, but his jaw drops in indignance. 

Annabeth tunes out of the rest of their bickering on the drive to Frank’s dorm on the other side of campus, knowing fully well that the Percy poster is hers to hold. still, the argument continues until they pull up to Frank’s dorm.

Jason turns his attention to Annabeth as she texts Frank that they’re here. “You met Frank yet?” 

“No, you?” she asks. 

“Yeah, we’re in the same poli sci class. We both sit by the front. He’s usually quiet, but one time he went off on that guy I was complaining about the other day.” 

Piper pops her head into the front seat. “The one who said the wage gap isn’t real?” 

“Yeah.” Jason smiles as he recalls the memory. 

“Percy told me he’s pretty shy.” Annabeth comments. As soon as the words leave her mouth, a guy walks through the front door of the dorm that matches Percy’s description of Frank perfectly: massively tall, chubby, and impossibly sweet-looking. 

The moment she sees Frank, Annabeth decides it’s best to give up the front seat for him and exits the car to say hi, hoping that makes him more comfortable. She’d be overwhelmed at the prospect of spending an entire day with people she’d only ever heard stories of, and she can’t help but feel for Frank as a nervous smile takes over his face. 

There are a few things Percy forgot to mention, though, things that Annabeth might’ve liked to know about Frank before meeting him, if only to make the greeting go more smoothly. 

Annabeth has an analytical stare. She knows this. If she’d known beforehand that Frank would shrink under it, she would’ve gotten into the backseat before he came out. 

Something about the way he pulls his body in on itself—either in shyness or shame or a desire not to disturb the air around him—fills Annabeth’s heart with lead. She’s never wanted to be the reason someone wanted to be smaller, and she fixes what she hopes reads as a warm grin on her face to undo it. 

“Hey, I’m assuming you’re Frank?” 

“Yeah,” Frank scratches the back of his neck, keeping his elbow down and close to his body. It’s such a weird thing to notice about the gesture, but Annabeth swears that Percy’s goes up and out when he does the same thing. Everything Frank does seems to be an effort to make himself take up less space, look less threatening. It even extends to his baggy clothes, which work fine for the late autumn weather, but will undoubtedly present a problem in the humidity of the arena. 

“You got layers on? It’s going to be warm at the meet,” Annabeth comments. 

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be alright,” he responds sweetly, similar to how Annabeth would imagine a response to a well-meaning, yet overbearing mother. She’s really failing at this whole first impression thing. 

Frank moves to sit in the backseat, but Annabeth beats him there. “No, take the front. It’s alright.” 

He looks at her with inexplicable guilt brewing in his eyes. “It’s okay, I don’t want to make you move.”

“I’m already out of the car,” Annabeth smiles. “Besides, I just want an excuse to nap on Piper on the way up. You’re honestly doing me a favor.” 

Finally, it seems she’s found the right thing to say. Some tension ebbs out of Frank’s shoulders as he opens the passenger door, and his cheeks dimple despite his efforts to hide it. 

Once they’re both in the car, Annabeth has exhausted what little social awareness she has. She has no idea how to navigate her existing personal relationships, let alone form _new ones_. Frank knows Percy. Out of the people in the car, Annabeth is the person closest to Percy, and she feels a responsibility to help Frank get comfortable because of it. But out of all the people in the car, she’s also the least equipped to go about—

“So,” Piper wiggles her way into Annabeth’s space as much as her seatbelt will allow her, giving her a better view of Frank. “How about that asshole in poli sci?” 

Just like that, Jason and Frank take off on a tirade about Kyle ( “ _Honestly, it’s telling that his name is_ Kyle,” Jason laughs) and the various shit he’s said in the semester. Frank is slow to warm, but eventually gets heated enough that he’s speaking his mind—not necessarily comfortable, but no longer uneasy.

When things wind down, Annabeth tries to redirect the conversation to get to know Frank. “So, how does someone end up in poli sci _and_ gen bio? Weird interests, or do you just love to suffer?” 

“Both?” Frank chuckles, twisting to see her. “I can’t decide on which I want to major in, so I’m following both tracks until I make up my mind, that way I stay on schedule to graduate.”

“Debt’s a bitch,” Annabeth grimaces. 

“That and indecision.” 

The drive upstate is relatively peaceful: prolonged, comfortable silence interrupted by bouts of lively conversation, driving games, and Annabeth explaining to the others exactly what a swim meet entails. If Annabeth didn’t know the drive was ninety minutes, she never would’ve guessed that’s how long it took. 

Or rather, she wouldn’t know until they got out of the car, knees stiff and legs numb from all that time sitting in one place. The parking lot is overflowing with friends, families, and buses that make navigating their way to the main door near impossible. Somehow that means Annabeth takes the lead and is left to figure out the way herself, but she’s preoccupied—searching the crowds for any sign that he was able to make it… 

And then she sees him. 

Annabeth spots that familiar head of curly hair from halfway across the parking lot and breaks into a sprint, ignoring the calls of her friends behind her. 

"Grover!” she calls seconds before crashing. He turns just in time for Annabeth to barrel into him, nearly sending them both toppling to the ground. 

“Annabeth!” Grover laughs, squeezing her before stepping back. “I’m so glad you guys made it! Sally just told me to look for you guys. Percy’s first heat starts in twenty and I’m hungry.” 

“You’re always hungry.” She punches his arm. 

“One, _ow_. And two, yeah. You know this about me,” he frowns. 

Annabeth smiles, helpless not to at the familiarity. “Yeah, I just missed teasing you about it.” 

Grover’s smile spreads even more than she thought possible, and he looks like he has half a mind to pull her in for another hug when Jason, Piper, and Frank catch up. They breeze through introductions in their rush to get inside. 

The group trails after Grover as he weaves through the massive crowd. Someone opens the massive arena door, and a wall of humidity replaces the crisp autumn air. Chlorine and sweat accost Annabeth’s nose while the volume of the crowd explodes from tense silence to a roar. 

Staying with the group is a struggle as they make their way to the bleachers. Spectators crane their necks to watch the pool over Annabeth’s apparently offensive height. Among the commotion of screaming fans, Annabeth can make out Sally trying to get their attention.

The announcer joins the chaos as his voice blares above the crowd, listing off times and last names from the previous heat. A hush falls over the crowd to listen, giving Annabeth just enough time to bulldoze Grover to see Sally. 

“Annabeth, sweetheart! It’s been too long.” Sally wraps her in a hug so maternal and comforting that Annabeth could cry. She’s taller than Sally, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling beyond protected. It’s not unsimilar to the way she feels when hugging Percy, which makes sense considering all the Jacksons mean to her. 

Annabeth looks around at the empty space all around Sally, then at the packed bleachers. 

Sally sees the question on her face and answers before she asks. “Paul and Estelle are waiting until finals to come. There’s no way that little monster could sit through an entire meet.” 

“I was going to ask how you saved all this space. This place is packed!” As if to prove her point, the crowd explodes as the next heat hits the water. It’s just a sprint, so the group waits for it to be over to resume the conversation. 

Grover takes that time to hug Sally himself, having lost the privilege of going first to Annabeth, who he frowns at as he passes. They talk in each other's ears over the screaming, laughing at some joke Grover makes. More screaming and chanting, more blaring last names over the speaker, and then relative quiet in anticipation of the next heat. 

Annabeth leans back to give Sally a view of their friends. “Sally, this is Piper, Jason, and Frank.” She goes down the line and gestures to each of them. “Guys, this is Percy’s mom.” 

Once they go over general introductions and how they met, Sally scoots past Annabeth and Grover to hug everyone. No one knows how to react, though they’re each undone to varying degrees. 

Piper is first and therefore doesn’t expect it; there’s a moment after Sally pulls her in where Piper looks at Annabeth with wide eyes, like she’s asking if it’s okay. Then her resolve strengthens and she returns the hug, leaning into it and closing her eyes. 

“You know Sally isn’t the first person to let go of a hug, like, ever?” Grover says in Annabeth’s ear. 

She nods. “Yeah, Percy told me after I met her. It’s because you never know who needs it.”

“I think she needed that.” 

“I think they all do,” Annabeth comments as Sally moves on to Jason. “I know I did.”

Jason is expecting it to come, but that doesn’t stop a slightly awed smile from dawning on his face. His ears turn a little red when he straightens up, but Annabeth catches the stunned look he and Piper share when Sally steps toward Frank. 

Frank almost looks uncomfortable while Sally approaches him. She makes a point of talking to him and asking for his permission before stepping forward. Their hug is by far the briefest, but he blushes a deep shade of red as Sally makes her way back. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said she was amazing,” Piper murmurs in Annabeth’s direction. 

Annabeth smiles and shakes her head. “I really wasn’t. Wait til you try her cooking.” The look on Piper’s face tells Annabeth she eagerly awaits the day. 

An equally eager hand finds Annabeth’s shoulder, and Annabeth looks to find Grover pointing at the next heat. “There!” 

Annabeth points at the poolside and shows the others where Percy is. 

“How can you even tell?” Piper stands on her toes to get a glimpse. “They all look the same with the caps on. Just a bunch of hot property in banana hammocks.” 

Annabeth elects to ignore the last half of Piper’s comment. “His warmups. He jumps around like an idiot.” Sure enough, Percy is jumping and swinging one arm like a windmill when they look back at him. But as soon as swimmers head to the pool, Percy’s entire demeanor changes. 

The seconds before the swimmers enter the water might be Annabeth’s favorite part of swim meets. Percy wears confidence like a second skin as he steps up to the block—the only time he ever does. His eyes are hidden by his goggles, but they can’t hide the smile on his face. He looks genuinely happy to be there, unlike several of his competitors scowling at the water and those around them. 

Annabeth usually teases Percy for his bad posture, but he’s all straight spine and squared shoulders on his way to the block. The whistle to get in position quiets the crowd, and they hold their breath in anticipation for the final buzzer. Tension is thick in the air as the swimmers stare out at the still water, their bodies statuesque in their stillness. For a moment, things are so still that Annabeth wouldn’t know the scene from a photo if it wasn’t happening in front of her. 

One buzz from the buzzer is all it takes for the pool to explode into motion, changing from smooth glass to an ocean of waves in the wake of bodies entering the water. Percy streamlines his arms and dives underwater, his image distorting as he goes beneath the surface. He comes up a breath after his opponents, his momentum taking him farther than the rest of them. 

Percy’s butterfly is unlike anything Annabeth has ever seen; he moves with a certain grace and power the other swimmers lack. Annabeth has watched her fair share of races and swim meets (both in person and when Percy gets obsessive over reviewing his performance), and she has yet to see someone match the simultaneous intensity and ease of his strokes. 

200 meters is a tough length to pace, so Percy doesn’t sail in front of the pack the way Annabeth knows he could. Butterfly is one of his stronger strokes, second only to freestyle. Instead of flying ahead, Percy saves his energy without concerning himself with the competition. The person in the lane next to him sneaks a glance when they submerge for the first turn, taking his time before resurfacing. Even through the waves, Annabeth catches the look. Percy either doesn’t notice or is unbothered as he comes up on his back for the backstroke, his long arms windmilling to propel him through the water. 

Most swimmers have a weak stroke, which is what makes this event so competitive, but Percy doesn’t share that weakness. He excels in certain areas, but it’d be a stretch to refer to anything he does in the water as _weak_. Second, third, and fourth place change drastically as the strong butterfly swimmers fall behind and those who specialize in backstroke surge ahead, but Percy keeps the lead he earned with his butterfly. 

By the second turn it’s clear who’s pacing and who’s taking the race as a 200 meter sprint. One swimmer simply runs out of gas (Annabeth scoffs at his lack of strategy). She can feel unease from her left where Piper, Jason, and Frank anxiously watch second and third place close the gap between themselves and victory, but a quick glance at Grover and Sally confirms that there’s nothing to worry about. 

The final turn into the freestyle comes, and it’s unclear who touches the wall first to push off. But the moment Percy’s head breaks the surface, Annabeth knows he’s home free. He tears through the water with quick, powerful strokes, not bothering to come up for breath more than a few times. It’ll all be over soon anyway. 

Each stroke carries Percy farther from the competition, lengthening his lead as they get faster. The crowd explodes, its volume increasing with every foot Percy puts between himself and second place. It’s one of those moments you want to cheer for regardless of who’s in the water. 

Percy hits the wall and comes up for air before anyone else finishes. A smile spreads over his face as the announcer says his last name and time. He tears off his cap and goggles to look at the crowd as he pumps his fist, and Annabeth was wrong— _this_ is her favorite part of a swim meet. Unadulterated joy lives in every move he makes, especially as he waves at Annabeth before grinning at the rest of their group in bleachers. 

The teammates who came out to watch ambush Percy the second he’s out of the water, namely Beckendorf running up to clap him on the back and shake his shoulders. This is where the Percy Annabeth sees most often comes back out from under the earlier confidence—he ducks his head and smiles at his feet, uncomfortable with the attention. His cheeks were already flushed from the exertion, but Annabeth thinks they darken when Beckendorf puts his arm around Percy’s shoulders and leads him back to where the team waits. 

The rest of the swim meet is dull in comparison. Like all meets, it’s impossibly long. The single minute Percy is swimming for the relay is exhilarating, but it’s outweighed by the sheer time spent doing absolutely nothing. Without room to talk to her friends or energy to cheer for every goddamn heat, Annabeth is close to losing her mind until Grover nudges her and points to the concessions line in question. 

Thankful for the excuse to escape, Annabeth nods and follows, telling their group to text her what they want to eat as she leaves. 

When she hears Grover mumbling menu options next to her over the hundreds of people in the bleachers, she pokes him in the stomach, laughing when he jumps. 

“Hey, not cool!” he protests as they move up in line. His arms cross to protect him from further annoyance. 

“You know there’s only one vegetarian option, right? No need to look at the menu.” 

Grover narrows his eyes. “Maybe I’m looking to avoid being harassed by my friend.” 

"You know you love me.” Annabeth shrugs. 

“I do.” He beams at her. “How’re you holding up? The group chat has been a little dead lately.” He frowns. 

Annabeth ducks her head, but he gives her the space to decide how much she wants to talk about it. “Better now. The past few weeks were rough, to say the least. Percy told you?” Annabeth asks, certain he did. 

Grover blushes. “Yeah, but I wanted to know how _you’re_ doing.” She can tell from his tone that he’s worried. 

“I know I did the right thing,” she affirms. “And talking to my dad was easy enough. I just… Perce said he was letting me down, as if that’s even possible. And I know we talked it out, but I can’t help but think he still thinks like that.” 

“He’s too hard on himself,” Grover nods. “All we can do is be there for him as much as he’ll let us. And now that you had the hard conversation, he’s letting you. You guys will find your normal again.”

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because I’ve been your couples therapist for about five years now.” 

Usually when Grover makes that joke, Annabeth laughs it off and does something annoying to redirect his attention; it’s what she’s done since high school, even in the later years when her feelings for Percy had gone away. But something about hearing it now after all this time apart makes Annabeth’s breath stutter in her chest, making her laugh come out more like a wheeze. 

Grover notices—of course he notices—and though he doesn’t prod, his face softens with something Annabeth can’t and _won’t_ identify because she will never stop thinking about it if she does. If it were anyone other than Grover looking at her like that, Annabeth would run as far as she could in the opposite direction. Still, she doesn’t want to put him in the middle of anything, so she changes the subject. 

“That’s enough about me. How is the whole savior of the wild thing going?” She smiles, crossing her arms and stepping forward when the line moves. 

“Right now it’s just semester one of the environmental science program, but it’s going well.” Grover’s voice floods with unbridled enthusiasm as he gushes about the hiking upstate, his classes, and all the opportunities to do good on the horizon. Though her first reaction is pride for her friend, Annabeth can’t help but feel like everyone has their shit figured out except her. But the thought is nothing but a twinge in the back of her mind, so she pushes it aside. Negativity has no place in her conversation with Grover when they haven’t seen each other in so long. 

The line picks up speed when people clear out for the announcement that finals are starting in ten minutes. Percy’s events are later on the list the announcer calls out, so Grover and Annabeth stay put. Thankfully, they’re able to make their orders only a few minutes after. 

Annabeth is far better at navigating crowds than Grover, so she takes the lead on the way back. Her killer glare proves useful in parting the crowd to make way for their precariously balanced food, which their friends receive with gratitude of borderline undignified volume. 

“Thank _god_ ,” Piper groans at the first bite. “I don’t care if this is shitty arena grilled cheese, it might just be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She and Grover tap their crusts in vegetarian solidarity, and together the group demolishes their food. 

While they stuff their faces, Paul shows up with Estelle, who runs straight to Annabeth after hugging her mom. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Grover protests as Estelle grips Annabeth like a vice. 

Annabeth bends awkwardly to return the hug and ruffle Estelle’s hair. “Go see Grover, Stella. You can see me anytime.” 

“But we don’t,” Estelle frowns up at Annabeth with baby seal eyes to rival her brother’s, and Annabeth’s heart splinters. “You don’t come anymore.” 

Objectively, Annabeth knows she and Percy went to Sally’s last month, but that logic fails when up against the pout on Estelle’s face. She squats to pick her up and place the kid on her hip. “School is really busy, but you’ll see us _so_ much when it’s done. We’ll be there for Christmas!” The last bit seems to soothe Estelle, who nods and reaches for Grover. They handle the pass off as gracefully as they can in the crowded bleachers, and soon Estelle is giving Grover the same spiel she gave Annabeth. 

Piper, Jason, and Frank lean together to hear each other over the crowd in the lull between events while Grover talks with Percy’s family, leaving Annabeth to scan the arena and wait for Percy’s first final. 

Finals are by far more competitive than preliminaries, which Annabeth expected, but not to this degree. First and second place is determined by hundredths of seconds in several cases, and one swimmer from the host school’s preliminary time was three hundredths of a second slower than Percy’s personal best. Percy will have to swim faster than he ever has to win in the final. 

Annabeth is all nerves for the entire race. Percy and his opponent surge ahead of the pack and stay neck and neck for the first half until his opponent breaks away during the breaststroke. It isn’t until the final turn that Percy bursts forward and takes the lead by half a second, earning both his new personal best and the victory. 

Anticipation is at the core of Percy’s movements as he receives his medal. He doesn’t take a moment to celebrate, clearly preoccupied by the daunting relay final in less than an hour. As soon as it’s over, he hurries to grab his things and rush to the locker room, not sparing the competition or crowd a glance on his way. 

Annabeth sends him a good luck text, hoping he’ll see it before he goes out. She has no idea what those guys do in the locker room during meets, but Percy usually responds. He doesn’t this time. 

Finals are the more tolerable portion of swim meets because of the high intensity of the events and the lessened repetitivity. There are only so many times in a row you can watch people swim the same race before losing interest. 

But finals are intense, a culmination of skill, determination, and strategy. Annabeth may not be involved with sports now that she’s in college, but she still loves analyzing athlete’s different techniques and how they affect the overall outcome. She doesn’t know as much about swim as track, volleyball, or any of the other sports she played herself, but she’s picked up enough from Percy and her own research (they go ballistic during summer Olympics). 

She knows that the host school is competitive, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things. So while she knows that one of their swimmers is a state record holder for the butterfly, seeing him fly past the competition in the water still short circuits her brain. He swims differently from Percy, who comes up to breathe about half as often. 

Piper tells her he’ll be in the relay against Percy in a bit (Annabeth missed the guy’s heat during the food run), chewing her lip as she does. Annabeth tries not to feed off her anxiety, but it’s hard to ignore what she just witnessed. Besides, it doesn’t come from a lack of faith in Percy—judging by the guy’s record, Annabeth is willing to bet he’ll going third to do butterfly, putting him up against Matt Sloan. 

The 4x100 medley relay is the last event of the meet, and the anticipation in the bleachers is at an all-time high. White lights wash out the arena, making up for the absence of a sun that set hours ago. If it weren’t for the massive skylight above the bleachers, Annabeth wouldn’t have the faintest clue what time it is. 

When the teams come out, Annabeth’s eardrums nearly shatter. She somehow makes out Percy in the chaos, finding him just before he stops shaking out his arms. He doesn’t spend too much time on his warmups; he’s a different restless now—more focused, more agitated. Beckendorf and the others are laid back in comparison (Sloan almost looks bored) as they prepare for the competition to come, though Beckendorf puts a hand on Percy’s shoulder and leans in to talk before heading to the block. 

The crowd waits with bated breath at the first whistle. Beckendorf is all business as he hops in the water to get into position for the backstroke. Everyone else on the team gets into place. 

"Take your mark,” booms across the arena. 

Everything explodes at the buzzer; the swimmers dive back, leaving a flurry of bubbles and white water in their wake. Anyone who was previously sitting leaps to their feet to cheer for their team, Annabeth and company included. They forgo their signs in favor of jumping wildly and as a courtesy to the people behind them. 

Beckendorf takes the lead on the first turn and lengthens it in the last half of his leg of the race. The team Piper mentioned before is putting space between second and third place in the lane next to them. Despite the close races in the prelims, it’s clear from the beginning that this event will come down to the two teams in the lead. 

Jake Mason’s transition into the water is flawless; his feet leave the platform the moment Beckendorf’s hand touches the wall and not a second before. Beckendorf has given him enough of a lead to hold his own against the competition. The breaststroke has always been Annabeth’s least favorite to watch, but it’s thrilling in this context. 

Their lead holds through the breaststroke, but only barely. The team beside them (they’re in red. Annabeth resigns to calling them the red team) reduces Jake’s lead to a margin by the time Sloan enters the water. 

Sloan is a fierce competitor—Annabeth has seen him swim at practices enough to know. His butterfly is aggressive; his arms tear at the water as he propels himself forward. 

But Sloan’s aggressiveness can only get him so far against the swimmer with a state record. The red team’s swimmer closes the gap between himself and Sloan with apparent ease, soaring forward as if he were flying. 

At the turnaround, Annabeth can make out Sloan taking a long look at his competition underwater. By the time Sloan resurfaces and focuses on finishing strong, the lead has nearly doubled. Annabeth wants to shake him by his shoulders. If he hadn’t got distracted, his position wouldn’t be half as dire. 

During Annabeth’s time at swim practices throughout high school and college, she watched hundreds, if not thousands, of relay transitions. They’re drilled into swimmer’s DNA from the very beginning and are arguably the most important part of the relay. If the swimmer’s feet leave the block before his teammate touches the wall, it’s an automatic disqualification. The swimmer in the pool must time his strokes to finish strong and set the swimmer on the block up for success. 

Sloan doesn’t finish strong; in fact, he takes his last stroke far too early and ends up coasting to the wall, throwing off Percy’s rhythm. There’s just enough time for Percy to save himself from going in too soon, but they lose precious time. Annabeth sees Percy’s jaw set as he launches himself into the water in pursuit of the leader. 

Percy takes on a demeanor Annabeth has never seen the likes of. He rides the wave of the swimmer in front of him and surges forward, closing the gap with every stroke he takes. Still, as they take the first leg together, it doesn’t look like Percy’s efforts will be enough. 

The final turn doesn’t change the tide either; it’s the seconds after that do. With whatever gas Percy has left in the tank, he chases down the swimmer, ripping through the water to do it. White water explodes from his body and he leaves a current in his wake. Both swimmers keep their heads down, not risking as much as a glance in the other’s direction, entirely forward focused. 

They’re neck and neck in the final stretch. It’s clear both of them give their all in the final feet before the wall. 

Beckendorf and Jake hunch by the edge of the pool, screaming for Percy to pull through while Sloan stands several feet away. The team next to them does the same, but Annabeth can’t keep her eyes off the water long enough to make out more than that. 

Deafening applause and cheers break out from all sides of the arena, and it’s unclear whose hand touches the wall first. Percy and his opponent whip around to look at the scoreboard as the rest of the competition finishes. 

Percy’s name is at the top of the list in bright letters, and he pumps his fist from the pool. Beckendorf and Jake haul him out to crush him in a hug, yelling and celebrating as the announcer goes through the official times. 

Annabeth finds herself crushed by a hug as well, hers coming from Grover. He’s beside himself with excitement, so Annabeth matches his energy until he’s okay enough to release her (though he keeps a hold of her hand). 

Percy throws his cap and goggles off and wraps his arms around his teammates except for Sloan, who hangs back from the festivities, hanging his head and bracing his hands on his knees. Annabeth can’t tell whether it’s in frustration, exhaustion, or relief, and still can’t while they step onto the podium to receive their medals. Even from the stands, his iron grip during his handshakes with the red team is clear. 

Final times are posted, meaning that people start to file out of the arena to their cars. The group looks around in stunned silence as the adrenaline of the race drains from their systems. 

Grover lets go of Annabeth’s hand. “Wow. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.” 

A few people murmur in agreement and nod aimlessly, staring out at the stilling water until Estelle breaks the silence. “I’m hungry,” she protests. 

“Me too, kid,” Piper yawns, slinging her arm around Jason’s waist. “Food after this? I vote yes.” 

Looking far more awake than his girlfriend, Jason wraps his arm around Piper’s shoulders in return. “I second that.” 

“All in favor?” Grover asks. 

Everyone is an “aye” except for Sally and Paul, who take one look at Estelle’s droopy eyes and shake their heads. 

“We’ve got to get this one to bed.” Paul smiles apologetically, rubbing his wife’s back while she holds their daughter. Together, the two of them turn to cut through the line of people leaving the bleachers and lead the rest of the group to the doors. 

“I’m gonna wait for Percy,” Annabeth says just before they exit. She expects at least a few people to stay with her, but Piper pulls Jason and Frank away with a rushed excuse, and Estelle gets upset enough that Paul and Sally have to make a dash out to the car to get her a toy for distraction. Even Grover says he’s going to pull his car up so they aren’t stuck waiting longer than necessary. 

So Annabeth makes her way to the locker room door where countless friends and family members wait. Swimmers come out to various cheers; most of them trickle out by the time Annabeth glimpses Percy’s messy black hair, which she’s grateful for. 

When he comes into view followed by a few teammates, Annabeth all but launches herself at him. He drops his swim bag to catch her. They create a bit of a traffic jam, but most of the guys move around them without trouble. 

Most. 

“Get a move on, Jackson,” Matt Sloan bites out, shouldering his way past Percy and Annabeth to join the other team members riding the bus home. 

Percy sets Annabeth down, jolting as he’s shoved. Anger festers in Annabeth’s stomach like white hot fire, and she turns to face Sloan and call out, “Pretty sure the words you’re looking for are ‘thanks for saving my ass.’” Annabeth can hear Percy’s exasperated sigh, but she’s not about to let him stay silent instead of sticking up for himself. Especially considering the circumstances of that final relay. 

Her words freeze Sloan in his tracks; he turns back to them slowly, not even sparing Annabeth a glance as he looks at Percy. “Shit, if I got a piece of that, I’d swim faster too.” 

Behind her, Annabeth feels Percy stiffen. Of course he won’t speak up until it’s to defend someone other than himself. He takes a step forward, but Annabeth presses back into him and prays he doesn’t sidestep her. 

“You’re welcome for the save,” his voice drips with irony, sharpened by a dangerous undercurrent. 

Someone leaves the locker room behind them, resulting in more cheers from the families still nearby. The realization that they will not be alone for the fallout of a confrontation strengthens Annabeth’s resolve to get out. “ _Anyway_ ,” she starts, pushing down her own anger as she tries to pull Percy out of the way. 

“ _You_ try going up against a goddamn state record holder.” Sloan rolls his eyes. 

Percy’s voice rumbles against Annabeth’s back. “I _am_ a state record holder.” 

Annabeth gives herself a moment to enjoy the expression on Sloan’s face before resuming her mission of removing Percy from the situation. If it were happening anywhere else, she’d help him beat the shit out of this dude, but this will only fall back on Percy if it escalates any further, and the initial escalation would be Annabeth’s fault. 

“Can’t wait to break it then,” Sloan smiles, and Annabeth highly considers kicking his ass herself—that way she could keep Percy out of it while getting the satisfaction of wiping that smile off his face. Her anger must show because Sloan directs that smile at her for the first time, and she gets the notion that just about anything she might pull would fall back on Percy regardless. 

The brittle tension snaps when Beckendorf comes through the arena doors. “Sloan,” he barks. “Bus is leaving. I’m assuming you don’t want Coach to leave your ass here?” 

The fight leaves Sloan’s eyes as he turns to address Beckendorf. He leaves without looking back at Percy or Annabeth again. 

“Did he give you shit?” Beckendorf sounds like he knows the answer, but his eyes dart between Percy and Annabeth anyway. 

Annabeth steps to the side, no longer afraid Percy might do something stupid. “Yeah,” she scoffs. 

“What’s with the look, Perce?” Beckendorf asks. 

When Annabeth turns to see what Beckendorf is talking about, she’s met with the sight of Percy’s jaw flexing, his brooding gaze directed at the ground. He turns to her. “Didn’t he talk to you that one time? What did he say?” 

“You mean at practice a few months ago?” He nods. “Yeah, but it wasn’t like _that_. He was nice, I guess? All he did was ask if we were together, but everyone did at first.” 

Percy searches her face, and she can tell that something still bothers him. “That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” 

“What’d he say tonight?” Beckendorf interjects. 

Percy huffs. “Just some dumb shit about the relay. I can handle it, Beck.” 

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “He shoved Percy and made a gross comment. Probably would’ve ended in a fight if there were less people.” She can hear the beginnings of Percy’s protest before Beckendorf speaks. 

“Sloan was a shit last year too. I never heard about anything gross, but he wasn’t exactly fun to be around. We had a bigger team, so he didn’t get the events he wanted. With the seniors gone, I’m sure he thought this season would be his.” Between his words and the way his eyes dart away, it isn’t hard to deduce that Beckendorf thinks Sloan holds a grudge against Percy

Percy seems to notice too. “What changed this season?” he asks.

“To be blunt? You. 200 IM used to be Sloan’s race, and now you’ve got the record. I’m sure the relay today set him off too.” 

"So I’m supposed to let us lose to boost his ego?” 

“No, that’s not what I mean. You came through for us today, and I don’t care what Sloan has to say about that. You put a gold medal around his neck.” Beckendorf’s glances at the last few families over Percy’s shoulder and drops his voice. “Just please don’t let him goad you into a fight. That shit doesn’t stick to him. I know he’s infuriating, but the best thing you can do is keep your head down.”

The moment bears an uncanny resemblance to high school, where Beckendorf kept Percy out of fights (or tried to) to keep him on the swim team. Of course, those bullies were more aimed at Grover than himself, and most of them weren’t on the team. In some way, Sloan reads similarly to them; in others, he’s his own beast. 

Percy seems to be thinking the same thing. He looks at his feet and nods solemnly. “I’ll try.” 

“You’ll do more than try. I don’t want to have to beat his ass for getting you kicked off the team, but I will if it comes to it.” This time Beckendorf’s voice rings out with humor, a slight chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Anyway, I passed your friends in the parking lot. Looks like they’re waiting for you.” 

“You wanna come with? We’re grabbing food before we drive home.” 

“Nah, Silena and I are gonna head back. She’s waiting out there too.” Beckendorf smiles in a way Annabeth has only seen at the mention of his girlfriend, like he’s in on some wonderful secret. 

Percy and Annabeth bid him goodbye and watch him leave, both of them lingering until he’s gone without saying a word. 

“You know your mom is going to kill you if you don’t let her take pictures with your medals,” Annabeth says to break the silence. 

“I hate that you’re right about that,” he groans.

“I’m always right.” 

“I hate that too.” 

“No you don’t.” Annabeth grins and watches him retrieve the medals from his bag, which still sits on the floor where he dropped it. 

“No, I don’t,” he responds earnestly. A fierce blush flushes his cheeks when Annabeth makes a big deal of him taking the medals out, and she cheers the entire way to meet their group. 

Everyone has pulled their cars up to the front when they leave the arena, so Percy is spared the suffering of Annabeth yelling in the parking lot. Instead he gets the joy of eight people screaming his name and rushing toward him. 

First to get there is Grover. They collide in a tight hug, burying their faces in each other’s shoulders and holding on so tight their shirts scrunch up. Everyone gives them their moment to reunite, to gush about missing each other, and to do their ridiculously complicated handshake. 

Grover gestures wildly at the medals around Percy’s neck. “Dude!” 

Sally takes that as a cue to step in for her hug, telling her son how proud she is as she tells Paul to get the camera out for pictures. There in the dim streetlights, Sally insists on getting a group shot, a shot of just the kids, a Jackson-Blofis shot (Annabeth included), a Grover-Percy-Annabeth shot, and a Percy and Annabeth shot. 

Percy shuts her down when she tries to single him out for his own picture. “Ma, they’re going to be dark, anyway. I promise I’ll bring them next time I come over, okay? We can get pictures then.”

Sally gives up, but only because Estelle is highly upset that she hasn’t seen Percy in the chaos of him seeing his friends. He holds her to his chest as he walks around thanking Jason, Piper, and Frank for coming, which seems to satisfy her. She taps on his shoulder in the middle of the conversation and he stops to listen, smiling when he hears her request. 

Percy brings Estelle to Annabeth, bouncing as he walks with his grumpy little sister. “She asked for you.” 

“Really?” Annabeth’s disbelief is only half sarcastic. “Over Percy?” she asks Estelle. 

Estelle gives no response other than reaching her arms out and grabbing for Annabeth once she’s in range. She buries her chubby cheek in Annabeth’s neck and clings, mumbling something under her breath before falling silent. 

Sally beckons Annabeth over to the car and opens the door near the car seat, but when she tries to ease Estelle from Annabeth’s body, Estelle tightens her grip before nodding off on Annabeth’s shoulder. 

Seconds later, Percy reappears to say goodbye to his family. His eyes fall on Estelle, lingering on her tiny hand fisted in Annabeth’s curls. He puts his hand over his heart like the sight knocks the air out of him, looking at the two of them with actual heart eyes. 

Annabeth can’t bear to look at him watching her like that, even if it’s just because of how cute his little sister is. She focuses on Estelle, swaying to keep her asleep and missing the look Percy and Sally exchange because of it. 

"Well,” Sally starts, gesturing to the car, “I think the adults have cramped your style enough today. Go have fun with your friends, hon. Just text me when you get home safe.” 

Percy takes the hint and gingerly takes Estelle from Annabeth, untangling her hand from the golden curl it wrapped around. He kisses her forehead before setting her up in her car seat, achingly gentle so as not to wake her. 

After a round of hugs and goodbyes, Sally and Paul drive off with Estelle sound asleep in the backseat. 

Piper is the first to break the silence. “We still on for food?” 

“Please,” Percy groans. 

That’s all the group needs to divide into cars and set out to the nearest sports bar, which is about the only open place that can seat all of them. Percy and Annabeth ride with Grover, though Percy beats her in the race for shotgun. The car ride is short, but it’s enough time for them to blast Hilary Duff’s _So Yesterday_ with the windows rolled down, every high school memory of them doing the same thing pounding in Annabeth’s chest as the three of them sing along. For one glorious moment, it’s like nothing has changed—like the trio is back in NYC without a care in the world. 

Of course, the moment ends when Grover pulls the key from the ignition, but Annabeth’s mood doesn’t deflate. Instead she sees her friend’s faces waiting for them by the door and remembers all the good college has brought her despite the worries, that change brings good as well as bad. 

Right now all the good is in the same place. Percy throws his arms around Annabeth and Grover’s shoulders like he feels it too. There’s a shift in the atmosphere as they sit at the table, the trio on one side of the booth and their new friends on the other. 

It occurs to Annabeth that she’s never had this many people she loves all gathered in the same place. Even Frank, who she just met, she loves. Just Percy loving him is good enough for her, but Frank goes beyond that. Annabeth doesn’t love him because Percy does; she loves him because of who he is. She can see the innate good in him, the sweetness and compassion Percy talks so much about. He doesn’t offer much to the conversation unless prompted, but he’s a good balance to the talkers like Piper. Frank listens intently, always the person to nod and encourage whoever the group talks over. The idea of warming to someone she met so recently is foreign to Annabeth; it feels _good_. It feels like growth. 

The dynamic of the table is something Annabeth couldn’t name if she tried. Old friends and new mesh like second nature, like they’re at a reunion rather than sitting down together for the first time. Annabeth wishes she could step back from the moment and watch it in third person just to hold it in her hands like the precious thing it is. Jokes said now will later become inside jokes, shared laughter leading to teary eyes and hands slapping the table, history made before enough time passes to deem it as such. 

They bring Grover up to date on recent developments and swap stories of their past with Jason, Piper, and Frank. At some point, the tide of the conversation turns against Percy and Annabeth.

Actually, Annabeth pinpoints the exact moment. 

Piper leans across the table to address Grover. “So have they always been like this?” She gestures in their general direction. 

Grover’s face tinges pink, and he looks sheepish. “Like what?” 

“Married,” Piper deadpans. 

Oh, Annabeth could kill her. 

A few uncomfortable chuckles escape Grover as he shifts in his seat. “Yes and no. Bickering? Always. But what you’re talking about, that’s new. That’s college or something. I haven’t seen that before.” 

Getting defensive will only make things worse, but Annabeth doesn’t like the way they’re talking about her like she isn’t here. “What are you talking about?” she asks, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer. 

Piper smirks while Grover uncomfortably answers, “Well, look at you.” 

Everyone’s eyes fix on Percy and Annabeth, who exchange a confused look before looking down at how they’re sitting. Sure, Annabeth has her knee thrown over Percy’s, but she did it to lean closer to hear what Jason was saying on the other end a few minutes ago. It just so happens that her leg remained there after she and Jason stopped talking. 

But their closeness doesn’t stop there, Annabeth realizes. Her leg pulls her into his space, and he leans back to allow her into it comfortably. The others at the table rest their arms on it while only one of Percy’s does—his other rests in his lap, dangerously close to Annabeth’s thigh. 

Frank is the only one with the decency not to look. Grover’s gaze locks on it for a moment, Piper actually rises from her seat to get a good look, and Jason’s eyes dart down for a split second before he fixes them on the table instead. 

Heat rushes to Annabeth’s cheeks as she retreats into her own space despite her body’s protest to stay in Percy’s. “You guys are ridiculous,” she insists. 

Percy makes use of his newfound space to lean forward by putting his face in his hands. He spends a moment there before straightening up, and Annabeth isn’t sure what to do with herself in that time. He opens his mouth to speak, a helpless look on his face, but is saved from speaking by Grover, who clearly recognizes and regrets the discomfort his comment brought the two of them. 

The conversation continues around them, though Percy and Annabeth aren’t as active in it as before. Annabeth doesn’t know what’s going through his head, but her own is hyper aware of all the places the cramped booth forces her against Percy—shoulder, hip, and thigh. 

Her attention is caught when Piper slams her palm on the table, startling Annabeth into focusing. “So,” Piper starts, “I managed to get us all invites for a post finals party if you guys are interested. It’s just outside the city.” Her eyes dart between Grover and Frank. “Everyone is welcome. You guys should come.” 

“When after finals? I’m coming to the city after Christmas,” Grover asks. 

Piper frowns and lets him know it’s the second week of December, which Frank quietly lets her know he’s free for. It’s unclear if he’ll come (or if he wants to), but Annabeth wants to see him there. She tells him as much. 

The assumption that she’s going directs her attention to Percy, whose eyes are already on her in silent question. He takes a look at her and tells Piper they’ll be there, sparing Annabeth from having to draw attention to herself by answering.

After the plans are made and the checks are paid, the night winds down rather quickly. With a full stomach and the warmth of Percy pressing against her, Annabeth feels like she could curl up and sleep right here for the night. 

Percy notices, because of course he does, and yawns that it’s time to head out. The others echo his statement (yawn included) and begin to shuffle out to the parking lot. 

It doesn’t occur to Annabeth that she’ll have to say goodbye to Grover until they’re hugging and she realizes she must let him go. She doesn’t want to; she wants to squeeze him into the backseat and take him back to the apartment with her and Percy. 

But it’s late and everyone is tired, so at some point they have to separate. Grover’s eyes are the slightest bit misty when they do, hitting Annabeth like a punch to the gut as he moves on to Percy. They talk during their hug, but Annabeth gives them their privacy. Like Annabeth, Percy looks like he never wants to pull away. 

The five remaining wave to Grover in the rearview mirror as he pulls out of the parking lot and disappears around the corner, and the parking lot feels empty. Annabeth finds solace in Percy, who she seeks out for a hug while the others pile into the car. 

“That’s never gonna get easier,” he sighs. 

“No, but _god_ was it good to see him,” Annabeth breathes back.

Piper knocks on her window, jolting them from their melancholy silence. They exchange a look before heading to the car, Annabeth settling into the middle seat while Percy sits behind Jason. 

The car ride is near silent on the way back except for Jason’s music floating from the radio. He drums his thumbs on the steering wheel and bobs his head to stay energized for the long drive. 

Piper and Frank pass out almost immediately, though Frank stays confined to his own space in the passenger seat. Piper is next to Annabeth with her feet propped up on Frank’s seat, but one leg falls into Annabeth’s space during a turn. 

Ever sweet, Percy scoots closer to the door in an effort to free some space for her; it just doesn’t work. Every inch Percy gives her, Piper takes as an invitation to spread out. They end up with less space than they started with. 

“Fuck it,” Annabeth grumbles, throwing her legs over Percy’s lap and scooting back spitefully into Piper. Her adjustment gives him room to be more comfortable instead of squished against the door. He shoots her a grateful smile as they slot together, his arm sliding around her shoulders instead of hanging awkwardly in his lap. The motion makes it easy for Annabeth to rest her head on his shoulder, which she’s grateful for with the new angle. 

“Comfortable?” he asks. Annabeth nods, her cheek rubbing against his shirt. Her hands remain in her lap, too afraid to stray anywhere else. For the first time, Annabeth is grateful that Piper is asleep next to her; she’d never hear the end of this otherwise. Hell, she wouldn’t have done it in the first place. 

That thought scares her. If she wouldn’t do it in front of Piper, she shouldn’t do it at all. Anything else is a risk Annabeth swore she wouldn’t take. 

Yet somehow as her breath syncs with his, it doesn’t _feel_ risky. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to be in Percy’s arms, his hand rubbing lightly up and down her back. Annabeth’s heart pounds in her chest, but not out of fear. 

Another turn slides Annabeth’s hand to the edge of her thigh, her thumb just brushing against Percy’s. Annabeth should pull her hand back but she physically can’t; it’s stuck there, frozen despite the heat blooming where her skin makes contact with Percy’s. 

Their fingertips align, tilting with the motion of the car on the highway. The world races by the window in the form of blurry street lights that cast shadows on Percy’s face, bathing him in gold. At the moment, each light could pass as a brand new night and Annabeth wouldn’t know the difference. Seconds tick by like months and miles pass in the blink of an eye. Time, space, and the world have no place in this moment, these minutes. It could take the entire ninety minute ride for Annabeth’s hand to find Percy’s, and it will feel the same as if it had taken two. 

It’s unclear who moves first, or if moving is a conscious decision at all. One second only their fingertips touch, the next they give way to fingers, palms, and wrists that pull together like the tide.

Annabeth wonders if Percy watches their hands through the passing shadows, and she considers glancing up at him before fear strikes her heart. This moment is entirely unlike any other time they’ve held hands. Every other instance was prompted by conversation or circumstance, never… _this_. This _is_ the conversation. 

Everything in Annabeth screams at her to say something, _anything_ , to ensure that this isn’t a fever dream—whatever it takes to prove that this is real. 

As if on cue, Percy’s thumb slides gently over her own. The movement is so soft, so gentle that Annabeth might’ve missed it if her nerve endings weren’t on fire. She gives his hand the slightest of squeezes in response, her gaze fixed on the door handle the entire time. 

His pulse presses against her racing one, and Annabeth screws her eyes shut to calm it. She focuses on Percy, on his distinct scent of chlorine and the ocean, on the way his other hand traces meaningless circles into her back. That at least is _familiar_ , but the hand that’s still and intertwined with hers? Completely uncharted waters. 

Annabeth doesn’t know what to do with herself. She could dive in ready to explore and map it all. The thrill in her veins tells her such. 

Or she could get in over her head, jump unprepared and drown. She could drag Percy down with her if she isn’t careful, maybe even lose him in the wreckage. 

Still, in this moment, Annabeth can’t pull away. Not only can she not bring herself to, there’s also the issue of space as Piper starfishes on the rest of the backseat. Annabeth grounds herself in this moment, however long it will last. She’ll move on when it’s over. 

For now, she relaxes into Percy, nestling into his shoulder and closing her eyes. Between the warm press of his body, the comfort of his hand on her back, and the steadiness of his hand in hers, Annabeth feels herself drifting off. Part of her wants to fight, to listen to Jason’s upbeat driving music from the front seat and remain as present as possible, but her weariness wins out. 

Her sleep isn’t quite sleep, rather a halfway point between consciousness and unconsciousness. Annabeth isn’t explicitly aware of anything except Percy’s hand in hers. That’s what matters. 

Annabeth’s senses dull with the exception of touch; she can feel Percy’s voice against her temple, but can’t make out what he says. She has a vague idea as the car slows; Percy is so warm and soft that Annabeth is too groggy to care otherwise. 

The rest of the drive is more stop and go. Percy’s arm tightens around Annabeth when Jason has to brake hard, and it stays there when they accelerate, holding her to him even after they lurch back into their seats. She feels him shift to look at her and stays in place, hoping he’ll think she’s passed out. It’s childish, but still preferable to addressing the situation. 

She wakes when the car stops, bringing the world into focus slowly, like someone is adjusting the volume knob. It starts with her immediate surroundings—Percy’s gentle voice in her ear, Piper’s muffled groan beside her—before branching outward to bustling New Yorkers on the sidewalk, to traffic going past their street. 

“Annabeth,” Percy’s voice floats down to her, too quiet to be meant for any ears other than her own. “We’re home.” 

Annabeth’s heart constricts in her chest, both at his words and the thought of having to let go. Not trusting her words, she nods while she sits up, grateful that Piper is sound asleep in the seat next to her. They untangle from each other too slowly to be embarrassed, too quickly to be entirely unfazed. 

It’s only then that they address the other people in the car. Jason’s eyes find Annabeth’s in the rearview mirror, and though she can’t see his face, her ears heat at his expression. 

Still, out of all the people in the car to have seen whatever just happened, Jason is the lesser evil. Annabeth gets the idea that Frank wouldn’t know how to talk to her after, and Piper would be downright unbearable. 

The dread of Piper witnessing that moment makes Annabeth hesitate. To say that Piper would give her grief means something happened that an outsider would have reason to pick up on, that it wasn’t just in Annabeth’s head. It’s only worsened by another glance at Jason.

Their goodbyes are brief, whispered under the lull of music so as not to disturb the two still asleep. A few smiles, thank you's, another goodbye, and then Percy and Annabeth head up to their apartment. To home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **When the evening pulls the sun down,**  
>  **And the day is almost through,**  
>  **Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,**  
>  **But my world is you.**  
> 
> 
> We're just going to take the fact that I've miraculously managed three updates in six weeks as me repaying y'all for an entire summer of waiting. Remember back in chapter one when I said 7k was ridiculously long and definitely the longest a chapter of this fic would be? What the fuck happened to that? This absolute mammoth of a chapter was only possible because a ton of really kind people were willing to help out! Special thanks to zacharandom for constantly hyping me up for this fic and for helping me through my struggle with Frank characterization. Massive massive thanks to littlefoxflower for being endlessly patient with me and all of my ridiculous questions as I attempted to understand swim meets as well as betaing the swim meet! This chapter would've suffered greatly without your help. I talked to countless others on tumblr as makeshift research, so for fear of leaving anyone out, this is for all of you! Everyone's enthusiasm and willingness to help was incredibly humbling. As always, thanks to Tiff (demlgodly) for betaing. You can blame (or thank) Lizzy (lizzybizzyo) for the ridiculous tenderness of the last 1k, she won't stop reblogging the "Not to me. Not if it's you," quote that makes me go absolutely feral.  
> I seriously can't believe I'm past the halfway point of this fic. It's my baby and I'm so excited to share the rest of it!! Thank you so much for all of your kind comments and messages both here and on tumblr, they make getting inspired to write so much easier.  
> This chapter was too big and had too much going on for just one song, so in order they're Afterglow // Taylor Swift, Best That I Can // Vance Joy, and Bloom // The Paper Kites.  
> The best way to reach me, learn about updates, ask questions, or see sneak peeks is on my tumblr (bipercabeth), but I do my best to get back to everyone on here too! 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [collide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20894987) by [LizzyBizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyBizzy/pseuds/LizzyBizzy)




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